Star Bucks

I waited in line for at least ten minutes to get my coffee that morning. I knew I'd be late to class, but it was worth it. As I got to the counter, I spewed out my lengthy order.

"Venti salted caramel mocha latte with soy milk and an extra shot of espresso please."

"Hot or iced?"

"Iced, of course," I had almost forgot.

The cashier wrote a code down on the cup and passed it along the assembly line. I paid with my college meal plan and stood to the corner to await my daily recharge.

After a few minutes the barista looked at me and, noticing my pompousness, nodded at me and handed me my drink without even having to ask the group of other students whose it was.

I walked outside, lighting a cigarette and setting my drink down on top of a garbage can.

A dirty, cross-eyed man came up to me, pleading: "Please, miss, could you spare a few dollars? I'm hungry, and it's cold outside and I--"

"I'm sorry, I don't have any cash."

"That's okay! I take credit," he says, pulling out a third gen iPhone with Square.