"Welcome to Starbucks!"
"Welcome to Starbucks! How are you today?" The disembodied voice chirped through the microphone as I rolled down my window to order.
"Oh, I'm fine," I answered. I didn't think I sounded particularly down, but the barista was having none of it.
"Oh, honey. You don't sound fine. What's going on? Tell me everything," they said. I could practically picture them leaning in closer. I went blank for a minute, as part of me was seriously thinking about where to start.
"How much time ya got? We might be here a while."
They seemed unfazed and assured me that they had plenty of time. I glanced in the rear view mirror at the cars behind me and asked if I could take a rain check.
"Early mornings are totally dead," they said. "I'm here at 5:30. Come anytime."
"Deal," I said, enjoying playing along, "but only if you agree that you also get to tell me what's going on with you."
"Oh, I have plenty to talk about. It's a deal. Now what can I get for you?"
I went on to order my drink -- a grande decaf latte (espresso after noon will jack my sleep up even more than it already is) with whole milk and one Splenda, then waited, inching forward every couple of minutes.
When it was my turn to pay, I put on my mask as they slid open the window and appeared with my drink. I started to hand them my credit card, and they waved me off.
"No, no. This is on me."
"What? Really? Oh my goodness, that is so sweet of you! I wish I had some cash so I could at least leave a tip. Would you be comfortable giving me your Venmo?"
"No, no Venmo. We are not doing that." I could see their eyes smiling. I smiled behind my mask.
"OK, then how about I do that thing where I pay for the person behind me?"
They would not bite. "Nope, not doing that either. Enjoy your drink."
And with that, I asked if I could take their picture, they said yes, and I drove off to pick up my Hanukkah candles at the Target drive-up.
Thanks, Jaxton at the Hadley Starbucks. You made my afternoon. (And you just might see me at the crack of dawn one of these days.)