I was the third one in a queue at one of the many Starbucks in Notting Hill this morning about to order my tall chai tea latte. I was contemplating a cranberry orange muffin when my morning daze was disrupted by the woman in front of me. “Small, medium, large!” she said, laughing. “You said small, medium, large!”
The cashier giggled. “I did…!”
The woman ordering her drink cracked a smile as well. “Large,” she said. “I’ll have a large.”
The woman in front of me started going on about how coffee shops have so many different names for their sizes and it’s all so non-sensical, the rest of us nodding in agreement. Why can’t they all just be small, medium, large? When it was her turn to order, she said giddily, nodding and putting her foot down, “And make that a medium!” She laughed, looking around to nervous glances from other customers.
I smirked to myself, picturing her having a go at Speaker’s Corner on a Sunday morning.