I went into Starbucks this morning—as I’m wont to do this time of year—and ordered my standard, a triple venti Pumpkin Spice Latte with whipped cream, because let’s be honest if you’re going to be drinking liquid pumpkin pie for breakfast, you might as well go all-out and get the freakin’ whipped cream.
Anyway, in human-speak that means I ordered a large Pumpkin Spice Latte with three shots of espresso.
I waited patiently listening to my iPod as the lovely young lady behind the counter started making my cup of molten pumpkin-y goodness. Then the coffee gods swept in and changed my day for the better. The old man running the register had some sort of issue and she abandoned my beverage to help him out.
Bearded coffee-maker dude stepped in to finish making my decadent beverage of choice, but didn’t know where she was in the process, so rather than ask her, he took it upon himself to go ahead and pump in three shots of espresso.
He did this just as she was turning back to the little coffee station thingity-thing and they had an awkward moment where she looked at him, he looked at her and then they both looked at me.
Coffee Dudette: “I already put in the three shots.”
Coffee Dude: “Whoops…uh, you’re waitin’ on the Pumpkin Spice Latte, right?…are you okay with a double-triple?”
Cap’n Charisma: “Uh…heck yes.”
Coffee Dude: “Cool this will be the first sixt—um…what’s the word for six of something?”
Cap’n Charisma: “Sixlet? Sixple?”
Coffee Dudette: “Sextuplet.”
Cap’n Charisma: (under his breath) “teehee…sex…teehee!”
Coffee Dude: “Yeah…sextuplet, this will be the first sextuplet latte I’ve ever made.”
Cap’n Charisma: “History…and a jittery morning in the making right here.”
Coffee Dude: “Yeah it is! Enjoy…”
…and I did, My Faithful Readers.
I did enjoy.