The plight of the barrista

Most days, my mom comes by to watch Rosie until her bus comes, I drop Dash at daycare, then head on to my office to spend my day in an insular office compound. I get stinky office coffee and eat bland cafeteria food. Once I'm there, I rarely leave the building until it's time to head home. I eat at my desk and do my work. On Thursdays I mix it up a bit.

I telework on Thursdays. With this school year's 30-minutes difference in the bus schedule, I have time to take Rosie to her bus stop. We still leave at the same time, because there's ridiculous traffic if we linger. So, on the way back to the neighborhood, I have time to get a decent, properly made coffee.

Today Rosie said, "No coffee for you, Mommy!"
And I was all, "Huh? why not?"
Rosie replied, "I don't like you bringing your coffee to the bus stop."
I said, "Okay, I'll leave it in the car."
"No, none for you! No coffee at all."
"How about if there's a cookie in it for you?"
"Yay! Yes!"

As we entered the cafe, there were two customers leaving. While I made my coffee order (french roast), I noticed that the barrista looked depressed. We were the only customers in the cafe, so she was talking loudly with her coworker.

Barrista1: "This was an absolutely PERFECT latte! Just look at it."
Barrista2: "We were out of vanilla syrup. She wanted vanilla syrup."
Barrista1: "But I think it's the best I've ever made! It's beautiful."
Me, chiming in amiably: "A work of art."
Barrista1: "Exactly! I can't stand to let it go to waste..." (looking meaningfully at me.)
Me: "I like latte...and the foam on that one is really superbly done."
Barrista1: "You can have it for free. You'd be doing me a favor to drink it."
Me: "Sounds great!"

Rosie and I left the cafe, me with two coffees (one of them an exquisitely made, specialty coffee), and her with a very small, fresh, delicious chocolate cookie.

We were both starting the day off well.