Let me tell you about my barista. It sounds cheesy to say that, I realize. But she really does make me feel special.
It all started when we moved from Burke to McLean less than a year ago. I was afraid I would never find the kind of Starbucks community in our new neighborhood that I had come to enjoy in Burke. Alas, just a few months ago in the nearby Giant grocery store, I ran into the young woman who is usually behind the counter at the local Starbucks. She came over to me, pointed and asked, "Venti, one-percent, no-foam latte?" My heart fluttered a bit.
Soon after, she asked me my name. (Hers is Kathryn.) And now my drink is usually waiting for me when I arrive. She sees me coming from the parking lot and starts to make it. It (the drink) usually has my name on it. Now come on, that's service!
(Recently, however, I've been trying to switch to a smaller, less caloric version of my old stand-by, but she keeps making me those giant drinks and I don't want to hurt her feelings, so I keep buying and drinking them.)