Mar
1
Sometimes the question shouldn’t be asked…
Filed Under Babbling
On Wednesday, I had stepped to campus to sit down and grab a coffee and just try to find some inspiration for writing amidst other things. And when I went to the Java City and walked to the counter and ordered my usual large soy chai latte, I waited a little longer than normal.
I’ve taken to watching the “barista” and counting their pumps, and then making sure they actually give me soy milk. I’m paying for soy, I want soy. And believe me, I’ve been given milk before. Or I’ve been given soy, but its been steamed in the same carafe as the regular milk.
And then, they always ask me: “Would you like whipped cream on top?”
I find myself quietly replying no, and refraining from the yelling:
“Why the fuck would I want whipped cream? I just ordered a drink with soy milk and I wanted it hot. If I wanted it with regular milk or even slightly cold, I’d have ordered a javalanche or something. Besides, soy milk? And you’re offering me whipped cream? You ever consider that maybe I’d ask you for whipped if I wanted it? Or that maybe there’s a reason that I avoided having milk or dairly products in my drink in the first place?”
The fact of the matter is? I’m lactose intolerant. If I can, I avoid dairy products. The biggest problem with my lactose intolerance, though? Is that it ebbs and flows. Somedays I’m royally screwed with just a cup of milk, and other days I’ll have root beer floats with an extra cheese pizza and mozzarella sticks and feel just fine. So I never really know how I’m going to feel and I try to eat accordingly to that.
And besides, asking someone who’s ordered soy milk if they want to add milk to that? To me, its like a Chassidic Jew asking for a burger and the joint he’s at asking him if he’d like to make that a bacon cheeseburger. As if the yarmulke and sideburns aren’t giveaway enough…
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