Day Eleven

The Starbucks I love to frequent has old wooden floors and big, drafty picture windows.  There is a small loft with over-sized, plush chairs covered with a dark forest green velvet.  Music that fits the brand fills the air.  Branded music is the best way to describe it.  It sells the Starbucks lifestyle well.  This time of year, Christmas gifts and themes roll out across the space in a fervor.  A tidal wave of bright red, hardly any green.

I like being able to order my drink especially the way I want it.  Venti, non-fat chai latte.  I like to say the “Venti” part matter-of-factually, as if it could be any other way.  But when it comes to “non-fact chai latte,” I say it quickly and without much thought.  It rolls off the my tongue when I place my order.  It feels natural, like my own name.  If I want less, I will make it a grande, but that is rare.  I love the taste of the drink, and what is a few more ounces of happiness worth?  About 50 cents.


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