at Starbuck's today garnered a somewhat unusual experience. When I pulled up to the window the nice-looking gentlemen there leaned toward the outside slightly, smiled warmly and said, "What's up, Hot Stuff?" Since I've never seen him before, since he doesn't know me from Adam's house cat, since it's a line, I gave it no credit.
But a pleasant conversation ensued, having to do with not knowing much, feeling like a mushroom (you know, kept in the dark and fed BS) and being pretty clueless. He smiled a lot and it was quite pleasant. We discussed being tongue-tied, getting words garbled and recovering. Try saying 'venti skinny cinnamon dolce latte' quickly; I have to speak very slowly or it's had to tell what I'm ordering.
He said something about tongues that I didn't fully catch and decided not to ask him about; sometimes it's best to not understand. Anyway, as I gathered my coffee and my sandwich and said goodby, he said in a sweet voice with a smile, "I love you."
You know, it's just possible customer service can go too far.
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