I was on the train today and I was one stop away from my destination when I overheard on the loud speaker that there was a dead train in front of us. I assumed that this would mean I would be waiting on a goddamn train until it was fixed so I decided to hoof it. It wasn't too far. Maybe 6 DC blocks which is like 12 NY blocks. Still no bother.

It was quite nice to see a new set of blocks on the way to work today. New restaurants to try. New shops to look in. New architecture to one day photograph.

On my way, I stopped into a starbucks (I counted 12 on the way to work). I ordered my drink and walked the remaining few blocks. While I walked by the Cosi I had been frequenting for the past month, I noticed that the coffee whore saw me and out of no where, I flicked her off with a smile. Now I know all of you are probably thinking "Dude, that's kind of fucked up. Why would you flick off some girl who makes coffee. Surely you aren't that dedicated to the Starbucks brand that you would insult a rival coffee maker?"

No my friends, this is the brief explanation of a man and a retarded El Salvadorian that made her way to America by an inflated basketball and an ounce of hope in her heart. You see, our hero, decided to switch coffee outlets one day after waiting 20 minutes in line for his drink at a very busy Starbucks. He knew that on his way to work, there was a Cosi and the coffee he had gotten from Cosi in the past has been generally pretty good.

So, on the first day, everything goes generally well. Behind the counter sat 4 women of the latina persuasion. Usually, the same woman had helped me throughout my entire stay with this store.
The first day started out somewhat normal... I order my drink, repeating it twice as I'm sure "Large Skim No-Foam Latté" is a pretty confusing industry term for coffee makers. I get my drink, hmm, foam. Ok, no worries. On with my day.

And this continues for a month. Not everyday but at least 2-3 times a week.

Bagel, toasted please = bagel with cream cheese, not toasted.
Large skim no foam latté = you guessed it, foam. I hate foam with the passion of 10,000 burning suns.

So yesterday, I go in to said Cosi and order my usual drink. I noticed when she was making it that it didn't have foam. Dios mio! Could it be? A correct order? I take my drink to the counter with the sugar, add my dose and I'm off to work.

I take off my jacket, sit down and start up the computer, get settled and take my first drink of the liquid crack. Seems sweeter than normal... Take another drink... Um wtf? I open the lid and goddamnit if it isn't motherfucking hot cocoa.

I sit there thinking, "Jason, just let it be. You like cocoa sometimes, make this morning a hot cocoa morning." But then my wallet coughed and interrupted my thought, "Um dude, you just spent damn near 5 bucks for fucking hot milk and two shots of espresso, not cocoa powder and water. Go break that bitch off a piece."

So, heeding my wallet's advice, I grab my pussy drink and storm out of the building towards Cosi. I walk in, eyeing my so called hack of a barista and exclaim, "I ordered a latté, this is hot cocoa. I understand how the two are very similar in pronunciation but this is the fucking 12th time you have screwed up my order."

She looks at me like I am el diablo himself. She starts to ring up a new latté and I shout even louder again "Dude, I ordered a latté. You gave me cocoa. Can I have a new drink please?"

This time, her friends walk over and point out how she fucked up and started to make me a new drink with the same cup. I ask for a new cup. They start to make my drink but this time with whole milk.

Ok, now you are probably thinking I am legally justified to kill every employee in the store but I don't. By the power of Steven Segal, I calm my nerves just enough to tell her the drink is once again, incorrect.

By now, the manager came over. "Is something wrong with your order sir?" "Yes there is."

At the same time I am eyeing my drink being made for the third time and am trying to coincide my acceptance of the drink with my finishing blow of sharp-witted tongue lashing...

"A little bit of advice, if you work in the food service industry where the english language is pretty much a mandatory ingredient for successful profit making... Make sure you hire people who not only have a grasp on said language but also know to make what you sell."

And with that, I grabbed my latté and was on my way. As I left the store, I knew that I was probably being cursed at or flicked off but I knew deep down inside that I did something very important that day. I single handedly planted the seed of hatred towards all white men in that dirty basketball floating El Salvadorian fucktard's head and one day our paths may cross again. Hopefully, she won't have a knife with the intent on shiving me.

God bless.