I’m picky when it comes to coffee. I like Italian coffee: not to bitter, not to acidic, not elaborate or gimmicky, etc. That’s to say that I don’t particularly care for Starbucks.
However, in times of desperation, when I start dreaming about coffee and nothing else is available (Starbucks is pretty much in every corner anyway) I go there. What really bothers me is that I don’t speak Starbucksian….
If I order a small espresso with a drop of milk, the “barista” looks at me with pity and corrects me: “Oh you
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Uhmmmm, yeah, I guess
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