The new three-strikes rule: Free coffee
The baristas at the local Starbucks drive-through, usually a dependable lot, required three stabs at my order this morning before they got it right.
I ordered exactly what I always order a venti vanilla latte. After an inordinately lengthy wait, the smiling young woman behind the sliding glass handed me a venti mocha latte.
"Um, it's supposed to be vanilla," I said.
She did a perfect Alex Trebek "Oooh, sorry..." and whisked the offending cup away. I could see her having a frank discussion with her compatriot manning (or, in this case, womanning) the coffee dispensers, who promptly began work on another drink.
Only this one was now a size too small.
Again the inaccurately dispensed beverage vanished, to the tune of profuse and polite apologies. The third time was the charm, as at long last the appropriate combination of ingredients and cup size converged.
I got a coupon for a freebie for my saintly patience.
I ordered exactly what I always order a venti vanilla latte. After an inordinately lengthy wait, the smiling young woman behind the sliding glass handed me a venti mocha latte.
"Um, it's supposed to be vanilla," I said.
She did a perfect Alex Trebek "Oooh, sorry..." and whisked the offending cup away. I could see her having a frank discussion with her compatriot manning (or, in this case, womanning) the coffee dispensers, who promptly began work on another drink.
Only this one was now a size too small.
Again the inaccurately dispensed beverage vanished, to the tune of profuse and polite apologies. The third time was the charm, as at long last the appropriate combination of ingredients and cup size converged.
I got a coupon for a freebie for my saintly patience.
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