A Starbucks Story

The Starbucks line winds behind her as she stumbles through a French accent to order a cappuccino. The barista, a mid-twenties, Under Armour-wearing man with a friendly, wide smile aks her, “small, medium or large?” What? A Starbucks employee resisting the Tall, Grande, Venti nomenclature? Unheard of. Are there not terrible rumors of Starbucks patrons being denied their freedom of speech to order in the traditional small/medium/large lingo?

Horrific scenes have been known to occur; stories have spread through Starbucks studded streets where patrons are bullied into Starbucks-speak:
“I’ll have a small coffee please.” 
"No, uh, a small, please."
"Yes, you mean Tall."
"Whatever your smallest size is."

But no, not this barista. He hears the stumbling accent, her searching eyes as she orders her size-less cappuccino, for she never specified which cup she’d like filled. So he defies the rumors, the horrific stories to help a foreigner. But, when she answers loudly, clearly, and beaming, she says, “Grande.” 

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