Dear barista,
You had no way of knowing that the latte you made for me on Friday afternoon was a rare treat for me. That I usually just drink normal ol’ cheap (and often free) black coffee. That I used to be a two-espresso-beverage-a-day girl, but these days I rarely partake of such indulgences. You didn’t know that I’ve become more frugal (and sensible, really). But shouldn’t every latte you make be a treat? Isn’t that the point of fancy coffee from the fancy neighborhood bakery? (On a side note, every other coffee beverage I have ever had from this establishment has been phenomenal.)
I tried to drink that latte. I was several blocks away when I took my first sip. It was the most bitter, disgusting latte I have ever tasted, and I’ve had a few bad ones in my day. I took a few deep breaths, talked myself into having another taste. Even worse. As soon as I got to the light-rail station, that full latte went into the trash. Three dollars I will never get back. And yeah, it sucks to waste a few bucks. But I had been looking forward to sipping that latte on the light rail ALL DAY LONG. You broke my heart.
I hope this was an anomaly.
Better luck next time,
Leah