I’m taking a break from editing my “old stuff” because, frankly, it’s a lot of work! I keep wanting to change little pieces of conversation or stories…which just opens up a whole can o’ worms. So, I’m taking a break from that and just writing from a random prompt instead. Enjoy!

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Word: Snowflake (It is the holiday season after all – though thankfully no snow yet!)

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I was standing in line at Starbucks, looking over the list of drinks behind the counter and trying to keep the sizes straight: Venti is Large, Grande is Medium, Tall is Small, and refills for your personal coffee mug are priced differently. The stereotype of the Starbucks crowd is typically enough to keep me away, but I had been forced to admit that sometimes their drinks were what I craved no matter how ridiculous the prices may be. Granted, I had managed to make myself several tasty cups of chai at home, but in general I’d rather pay someone to make it for me. I’m a little lazy when it comes to my drinks. Why spend five minutes digging through my fridge and cabinets looking for sugar, milk, and throwing aside the decaf chai I bought by mistake when I can spend five minutes in line and get a steaming hot chai, perfectly made and full of caffeine?

Besides, it was freezing outside. Snow had fallen during the night and while it had stopped by the time I left home, it wasn’t melting at all and no matter how pretty and fluffy it looked from the windows it made the winter day seem twice as cold. So, when the wind picked up I ducked into the coffee shop for something hot to drink. I had planned to grab a table and sit down with my newest purchase: a biography of Henry VIII, but while I waited in line more people trickled in – in groups of course – and they had filled every available nook and cranny in the small shop. Chatter seemed to triple in volume every time  someone new came through the door. I was irritated by how people would stand in the door holding it open for people half a block away and letting in the freezing air.

Finally, I moved up in the line. One woman was ahead of me, and she seemed to have not yet decided what she wanted. I tried not to look impatient. She ordered two grande white chocolate mochas, then decided she wanted them to be one grande and one tall instead, and finally decided that yes, she did want whipped cream, but one mocha had to have low-fat or soy something-or-other in it and, oh yeah, one of those muffin thingies. I rolled my eyes. Seriously? We’d been in line for over ten minutes and she didn’t know what she wanted? Then I remembered that she’d been on the phone the whole time, gushing about her “puppy” and griping about how “totally, like, selfish” her roommate was.

To top things off, she was a dollar short and while she stood there digging through her luggage-sized purse I gave up. I stepped forward and handed the cashier a dollar bill. The woman looked at me, grabbed her coffees and pastry and walked off. No thank you, no smile, just the look as if to say, “Oh, that’s right. I forgot that I’m the most  important person in the world.”  Even the cashier was offended.

Now that, my friends, is a real snowflake. But my chai was still wonderful. You see, I managed to wedge onto a stool at a table in a corner and I got to watch Mocha-Girl spill her monstrous coffee onto her cell phone…while talking on it through a bluetooth connection. It was truly priceless.