In a hotel lobby is a cafe with
We Proudly Brew
Starbucks Coffee
posted over the counter.
Medium coffee, bold roast with two shots of espresso, I request. The little lady behind the counter wears a badge indicating the she is from Nicaragua. It is clear that English is not her most comfortable tongue. She makes two shots of espresso, then turns to give me the mini-cup. “No, no”, I say – two shots in a cup of coffee. I’d prefer a whole cup filled with espresso, but my financial resources are limited. The woman nods, picks up a medium sized cup, and indicates by way of motioning to me that she is going to pour the espresso into the larger cup. Yes, I nod my head.
Then panic sets in…
I see this woman, who moments ago seemed a harmless little old Nicaraguan woman, turn into a monster from my nightmares. She begins to add HOT WATER to my coffee! “No, no, no!”, I gasp, as the other guests in the lobby stare at my wild-eyed antics. They are oblivious to the massacre happening only a few feet away.
We did get it worked out in the end. Fresh espresso brewed and added to a bold coffee, and the nightmare was ended. But it sure did get my adrenaline going first thing in the morning.