Cue the singsong voice: “So that’s a triple grande nonfat no-whip hazelnut latte? Is that right?”
Yeah, that’s what I said.
When I slink into a Starbucks and order up a large decaf single-shot Americano or a nonfat almond iced latte, do you really have to read it back to me in the correct, Starbucks-sanctioned order? Do I give a rat’s ass? Am I going to learn my mocha choka latte lesson next time?
It’s bad enough that I’m paying four bucks and downing a day’s worth of calories in my 20-ounce (i.e. venti) drink. Do you have to shame me as well? Isn’t slowly putting me in the red with your demon breakfast blend satisfying on its own? Why aren't you just content with making me tubby off of your blended fattuccino? Instead of writing N, D, or S/S on the side of the cup, try listing the minutes I need to work out at the gym to burn off my bevvie. That might be helpful.
If you keep correcting my Starbucksese, I’ll have no choice but to interpret them as fighting words and throw my double tall iced mocha in your face. Did I get that right?