Baristas

It’s funny how I’ve gotten to know the Baristas at my local Starbucks. After 5 years of triple tall skinny lattes (sometimes I switch up the flavors), I enjoy the warm smile I get from my morning elixir experts.
This morning, though, my order was incorrect. Two of my biggest paranoias in life: de-caf coffee & not non-fat milk. I fear my skinny Caramel Macchiato wasn’t so skinny and its height exceeded Tall all the way to Grande, but Dorkis’ pleasant conversation coaxed me into refraining from releasing the complaint that lingered on the tip of my tongue. I decide to live with the mistake today, because holding up the line & scolding my Baristas is no way to start a beautiful Tuesday morning – even though I’d already gotten a parking ticket in my own neighborhood.
I won’t let it slide every time, though, my dear Baristas, but today I’ll skip breakfast to enjoy the full-flavored goodness.