A woman just walked in to my favorite Starbucks and immediately began asking for things.  Not money.  She wasn’t a panhandler, but I could see in an instant that she was “high maintenance” – that person who is forever trying to reform the world to her needs.

I’m always torn when I run into one of these people.  On the one hand I admire their determination to get what they want in any situation.  On the other hand, they annoy the crap out of me.  Sometimes you just need to take things as they come, if only to make the world run a little smoother.

I don’t mind if it’s a few small things.  I don’t care if it’s something huge and important.  I hate it when it’s a never-ending stream of “could yous.”  “Could you move” is fine unless it’s really “Could you move because I won’t take the extra two steps to go around your table the other way?”  If only for time efficiency, wouldn’t you go around?  If the person sitting even says “Huh” before doing as you ask, the encounter has already taken more time than was needed.

“Could you bring me a napkin?” is swell – unless it’s the beginning of a barrage.  “Could you bring me a napkin?  Oh, do you have a cloth one?  No, I don’t want more paper ones; I just want one cloth napkin.  How about a small towel?  Do you have one of those?  Oh, and some club soda.  No, I don’t want to order a club soda; I just want you to bring me a glass of it with the towel so I can blot this stain on my shirt.  And a brush.  A small, soft-bristled toothbrush.  You must have one of those.  I don’t know why this is so difficult.”

See?  High maintenance.  Nothing is ever quite right or quite enough.  The high-maintenance person hasn’t been happy since Burger King stopped telling them they could have it their way.  But they keep trying.  At Starbucks you can always tell them even if you haven’t heard their order because their cup is black with check marks and special notations and because they hover over the barista all the while their drink is being made to make certain there’s not too much nutmeg and that the temperature is exactly 135 degrees.

Sometimes I think I should be more high-maintenance.  I tend to go through life without thinking too much about making things different from what they are.  It usually doesn’t even occur to me that things could be different until an opportunity to change them has passed.  I’ll think about an exchange a few days later and think, “Wow, I would really have preferred whipped cream instead of ice cream with that blueberry pie.”  It’s less that I won’t ask for a change than that I don’t think of it at all.  The menu said the pie came with ice cream; I took it as a yes or no proposition.

I used to have a partner who was a mad bargain hunter.  When we were grocery shopping he’d say, “Is this a good price for bananas?” and I honestly wouldn’t know.  I don’t do a lot of comparison shopping.  I go to the store and if I think I can afford the prices they are asking, I buy things.  If not, I don’t.  My partner, on the other hand, was a rabid bargainer.  He loved to try to get better prices on everything and was so happy when he was successful.  All of that back and forth only served to give me headaches, so I usually left the store and let him go for it.

To tell the truth, I’m working on increasing my maintenance level because I know mine is much too low.  But I don’t want to raise it too much.  I’m searching for that good middle ground between being so picky that people you’ve just met want to slap you silly and getting your way in the big, important things.  I can see bargaining for a car or a house, but with a sweater, just tell me your price so I can pay or leave.  I don’t have the time to squabble over everything.  I’ll keep the notations on my Starbucks cups to a minimum.