Absurdly Driven looks at the world of business with a skeptical eye and a firmly rooted tongue in cheek.

Starbucks is desperate not to be seen as same old, same old.

This is a touch difficult when your stores seem to occupy all four corners of many city streets.

How, then, not to seem so ordinary?

You have to use your imagination.

Recently, Starbucks has tried several new things. Almond Milk, for example.

And the, um, Chile Mocha.

But now it's gone completely overboard with the wacky, the inventive, the equivalent of a rabbit being pulled out of a hat except it's a revolutionary something being poured into your cup.

This weekend, your favorite coffee house with the weird Illuminati-ish logo is serving Barista Originals.

Personally, I find Kurshina, Marie, Melissa and Trissy -- my local baristas -- original enough.

Starbucks, though, wants them to fully express themselves and then pour their self-expressions down your epiglottis.

Yes, your baristas are inventing their own drinks and will be serving them from October 20-23.

Sadly, they won't be able to serve, say, a Full-Fat Vodka Latte.

At least, not as far as I know.

Instead, Starbucks has already asked its baristas to submit ideas and has chosen five as jumpstarters.

But your baristas can invent anything they want.

This includes a Watermelon Mocha. Or a Pumpkin Spice 8-Shot Yoghurt Latte. Or a Dijon Mustard Frappuccino.

Surely you're excited.

Surely you feel this is a true test of the people who dutifully pour your coffee every day, even though they've had two hours' sleep and it wasn't in their own apartment.

This is their shot.

Please, therefore, take a leap.

Throw caution to the westerly breezes and say to your barista: "I'll have whatever your sweet mind has invented."

These baristas have likely spent long, lonely nights huddled in parking lots and Outback Steakhouses wondering what to create for their customers.

They've likely poured through the cookbooks and drinks recipes of the world, searching for the secret ingredient that will stun their customers into paroxysms of elation.

After this weekend, you may never have (or be) a Grande Drip again.