The Big League.

He gives me a look of dismay. Disappointment. A "death-look."

"I thought you were in the big league!" he says.

I am taken aback. Caught off guard. Not sure what to say...

I begin to stutter. I want to please him. I want to have his support in my decision making. He has never steered me wrong. I owe him loyalty. And trust.

I have let him down.

But my actions had a truly exceptional excuse. I didn't make this decision lightly. It's just that it was too damn hot out today. And you know how the heat can cause you to have somewhat careless judgement.

"Here's your ICED venti americano," he says, with a look of revulsion.

I meekly take my espresso drink and walk away with my head down. I dare not put milk or even sugar in it while in his presence.

"Next time, " he calls out, "I'll be sure to look out for you better when you order."

Starbucks baristas can be so judgemental. And they have the ability to reduce you down to a child-like mentality... Wanting to please an adult with your choices.

I will try harder next time, and order a hot drink... Rather than an iced one.

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