A good place to go when I'm alone for the night or just plain bored is my local Starbucks. I've been going to the same one almost daily for as long as I've lived in this apartment (4 1/2 years), and less frequently ever since it opened. For some reason, I don't really consider myself a regular since I don't go there for 2-3 hour study sessions anymore, but I can still point out the regulars quite quickly. And it always makes me smile when the barista remembers the regulars' drinks. This one barista in particular, however, makes me laugh out very loud inside though.
Do you recall the girl whose look becomes her? Well, I'm convinced that this one barista has us mixed up. For, you see, this barista has been wrongly guessing my drink for at least the past 6 months. She's absolutely convinced that my drink is a Triple Grande Mocha; I have never ever ordered a triple mocha, and haven't had a mocha since the beginning of my Starbucks days. And it's not just her memory. After my bout of the flu last month, I haven't been able to drink coffee. As a result, my new drink is a Grande Non-fat Earl Grey Latte. Last week, this certain barista was starting to (mistakingly) write up a cup for a mocha for me, when I told her my sad tale of being unable to drink coffee after being sick. Ever since, she remembers that I now only drink Grande Non-fat Earl Grey Lattes, although she always adds the sidenote, "until you're ready to go back to triple mochas". Sigh. I'm hoping one day me and the girl whose look becomes her are in line together and that that barista is the one at the till, so we can clear this whole thing up. Although I'm in no rush. The Triple Mocha girl is gorgeous, and I'm flattered that the barista thinks we're the same person.