It was time for the girls to come back home. My dad I decided to meet halfway between our two cities. (Okay mine is a city, his is a town). Halfway in between is a Starbucks. Hurricane Ike really disturbed my Starbucks drinking. It has been days since my last sip of iced white mocha with non-fat milk. The whole drive, I sang a little song to myself. "I'm getting coffee...I'm getting coffee!"
I practically jumped out of the car before it was parked. I could SMELL the coffee.
"A grande iced white mocha non-fat, please."
The barista smiled politely. "I'm sorry ma'am, we are out of white mocha syrup."
The color drained from my face. Tears came to my eyes. What a mean, horrible thing to say to me.