It’s a gray, bone-chilling winter morning, the kind of damp dawn that invites me to stay in sweats, curl up on the sofa in front of a crackling fire, and eat freshly baked chocolate chip cookies while watching my latest Netflix addiction, Gilmore Girls.  Instead, the ungodly hour of 6:45 a.m. finds me already standing in line at Starbucks. I need to fuel up before continuing my hour-long trek to work.  I’m comatose, cold, and cranky. 


And it’s a Monday, which magnifies my misery.


But the line is short, thank goodness. There are just two guys in front of me. They are annoyingly chipper and having an animated conversation.  When those magical words, “Next!” are called out, they approach the counter and only at this time appear to notice the vast menu on the wall. This creates quite the dilemma.


What shall they have?


Another conversation ensues. They look at the menu, then at each other, and back at the menu. They point, analyze, debate, and discuss.  Who knew coffee was capable of triggering such stimulating dialogue? The broad selection of tasty drinks has obviously boggled their senses and they are overwhelmed with the numerous choices before them. Tea or coffee? Hot or cold? Nonfat, decaf, whip or foam? Tall, Grande, or Venti?  And what flavor syrup? They must carefully weigh all options before rendering this critical decision.


I want to strangle them.


After several minutes of deliberating the benefits of green tea versus soy milk versus dark chocolate, glory be to God, they finally place their order. I’m about to whip out the words that are perched on the tip of my tongue, “grande soy latte, extra hot, no foam,” when the two men suddenly glance to their left. They’ve just noticed the pastry bar.


“Wait a sec,” they tell the cashier.


As they meander over to peruse the wide selection of breads, scones, and muffins, I hear impatient shuffling behind me. I turn around to see that the line is now snaking towards the front door. Fellow bleary-eyed commuters, in dire need of a caffeine fix, have their arms crossed and lips pursed.

They are not happy.