I fidget a bit with my tie. Even after two weeks it feels awkward.

“Excuse me, are you in line?” someone asks.

“What? Oh, yes, sorry. I’m in line.” I say, stepping to my left and aligning myself with the gentleman in front of me. I look over the notes I’d been given by my new coworkers. Beth’s order makes me squint. ‘Decaf tall four pump Valencia percent no whip latte’?

I look up and am suddenly face to face with a rather portly, smiling Starbucks cashier, her hair a wild, unkempt hedge of blue spikes.

“Hello sir, what can I get for you today?”

“Hi… yes, I’ll have a regular coffee, please.”

“Grande drip? Would you like our bold selection, or our milder breakfast blend?”

“I would just like a coffee, thanks. With a little room for cream.”

“Ok sir, one grande with-room drip. I’m sure you’ll enjoy our Sumatra.”

“Who?”

She smiles like I’m five.

“It’s a type of coffee.”

“Oh. Well, um… I would also like… let’s see…” I laugh nervously. “I apologize, my coworker’s handwriting is horrible.” An awkward smile spreads across my face.

The room feels warm. Somewhere behind me a woman coughs. The woman making drinks asks the next customer if he can get a drink started.

“Will that be all, sir?” asks Spiky Hair.

“No, like I said… I’ve got this list, so. One large –” Her blank expression hasn’t changed so I make a sweeping motion with my arms. “- mocha with vanilla, please, and a - ”

“Whip?”

“What?”

“Would you like whipped cream on that, sir?”

“I suppose not.”

She scribbles on a cup - “One venti vanilla no-whip mocha,” - and places it to the side. “Anything else?”

“Yes, can I have… ” I carefully recite Beth’s order.

She repeats it back in a cheery rapid-fire. “One decaf tall four pump Valencia percent no-whip latte! Would you like to try one of our raspberry scones?”

“No, thank you.”

“Perhaps a chocolate cream cheese muffin?”

“That’s fine.”

“Alright then, your total comes to thirteen dollars and twelve cents.”

“Coffee is getting awfully expensive these days!” I fake a smile. “Who would have thought those little beans would be such an valued commodity?”

Porcupine nods as she retrieves change from the register.

“Alright, sir, here’s your muffin and your regular with-room Sumatra. Your espresso drinks will be ready over there on the barista counter.”

I take my change, coffee and little bag and start to walk to the counter, but pause midway and do an about-face.

“I’m sorry, wait. I didn’t order this.”

“The regular with-room Sumatra?”

“The what? No, I ordered that. I didn’t order a muffin.”

“Yes you did, sir.”

Someone groans.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bother you,” I say, smiling ever-so-sweetly, “but I didn’t order this muffin. I don’t want it.”

“I can’t take it back.”

“Why?”

“It’s out of the glass casing, sir.”

“I haven’t touched it. It’s still in the bag. It’s OK.”

“Sir, I asked you if you wanted a chocolate cream cheese muffin, and you said that would be fine.”

“No, I said that it was fine, as in, ‘No, I do not want a chocolate muffin, that will be fine.’ I can’t pay for a misunderstanding.”

“Sir, it’s out of the casing. We can’t take it back.”

“But I haven’t touched it.”

“That’s not the point, sir. It’s against Starbucks company policy.”

“I… OK, fine.” I take a deep breath, pause, and turn to the new customer. “Sir, were you thinking about ordering a muffin?”

“Yes.”

“Could I convince you to buy a chocolate one?”

“Sure.”

“OK then, great. I think I paid two-something for it, but I’ll settle for two bucks even.” I extend my bag-holding arm.

“What the hell are you doing?” As if I’m trying to hand him an aborted fetus.

“I’m giving you the muffin you’re buying.”

“What? I don’t want yours. I’ll buy my own.”

“But that’s why I asked, so that you could buy mine. I don’t want it.”

“But I don’t even know you. I’m not going to buy your food.”

“You saw her hand it to me. It’s still in the bag!”

“Well, if it’s against Starbucks company policy, there has to be a reason.”

I can sense growing agitation behind me. My drink order is called out.

Sonic the Hedgehog cuts in. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step back. You’re blocking the flow of the line and slowing down the ordering process. You should really give the chocolate cream cheese muffin a try.”

“You like it?” I open my little brown bag and peer inside.

“Well, I’ve never had it, but my coworkers say it’s delicious.” She gives a polite cough and motions to the barista counter. “And it looks like your drinks are ready, so if you’ll please step away from the line and have a good day.”

“Well, but -” I hear audible coughing and turn around -

- to find a long line filled with faces of death. I smile weakly and turn back to Sonic.

“Have a good day.”

“Thank you sir. Please step back.”

I go over to pick up my drinks. When I inquire about a tray, I am informed that they are out. Gingerly pressing the three cups together to form a fragile triangle, I head for my car. As I set the cups on the roof, my hand slips and the most complicated drink in the world keels over. The top flies off and my windshield takes a caffeine bath.

A thin film of Valencia slowly forms over the glass. I reach out with my index finger and make a long swipe across the sticky saccharine surface. I put the Valencia-flavored digit in my mouth and close my eyes. I inhale deeply through my nose, holding my breath for as long as I can before removing my Valencia finger and finally exhaling. Opening my eyes, I leave the remaining two drinks on the roof of my car and take Beth’s note out from my pocket.

I shout an obscenity.

I yell two more.

I walk back across the parking lot.