"What! Free Starbucks?" A Short Somewhat Nonfiction Story
On a chilly early evening, I purposefully strode into Starbucks. "Uh oh here is another soy chai lover," said short, brown haired, blue-eyed Barista Man. As soon as I came in, the young, peach-skinned lad in white shirt and signature green apron always knew what I wanted. A grande sized soy hot chai tea. Today was obviously no different. "Yes," I beamed cheerfully. "That would be me!" Cold and shivering from outside's massively dropping temperature, I couldn't wait to be warmed up with my favorite beverage. The two people ahead of me seemed distressed. Okay. More like three people. There was a baby on the ground. In one of those baby carrier whatchamacallits. "What's going on?" I politely asked, through clenched I-Freaking-Need-My-Fix teeth. "We're out of soy milk," Barista Man groaned. Immediately, I fought back tears. What the fudge? Didn't I just see about 80 cartons of soy milk in their fridge yesterday? Not that...