20 Flavors of Life
You patiently stand in line. The line is slow moving, an occasional shuffle of feet to indicate actual advancement. No frustrated mutters. No angry complaints. You are the same. You can only quietly sigh as you glance around in search of a clock or something to measure the length of time that has passed. You pat your pockets once more--Nope, no cell phone. Your feet move one step forward. You crane your neck to count how many are in front of you and twist back to see how far the line extends. Almost to the front with no end to the tail of the line.
Come to think of it, why are you in line? You remember drinking a cup of piping hot tea at the entrance handed to you by a smiling women in white. She handed a cup to everyone passing through, and you had no option but to politely accept. "Drink," she motioned. Drank you did. Now that is the only thing you remember.
Before the confusion can fully set in, you are pulled away from your thoughts.
"Hello, what can I get for you?" Your eyes eventually focus and see the neatly dressed worker greeting you across the counter. What do I want? You think. Your puzzled look indicates to the worker that you need assistance as she gestures to the board behind her.
"We have our menu here. There are 20 flavors to suit your taste, but no customizations."
"Um..." Your voice comes out croaky and hesitant. That did not answer any of your questions, and neither do these choices. Signature, Signature Lite, Hollywood Dream, Bombay Fire, Zesty Ginger. What do they mean? "Is there a description for each of these?" You suddenly understand why the line moves so slowly.
"I'm sorry we don't. The names are quite self-explanatory. Except Signature and Signature Lite, I guess. Signature is the most basic and routine one. Signature Lite is just like Signature except the flavor isn't as long lasting," she shrugs.
"Right," you sound rightfully skeptical. You scan the menu a few more times while shooting the work several pleading looks. She remains silent, not a hint of annoyance at your indecisiveness. Well, you prefer milder flavors, nothing spicy or pungent. Names can be misleading, but it seems like that is a risk you have no choice but to take. You settle on the most innocuous sounding one.
"All right. Please wait for your order around this counter," she extends her right arm out behind her. She smiles as you nod a thank you before walking away. The order comes out faster than you expected. A mug of steam appears with your name printed on it. It sits on an unlabeled white acrylic tray. You hold the mug close to your nose. You pick up a faint floral scent. Pleasant enough. You carefully blow away the steam. It dissipates to reveal a clear liquid. Oh well, you think as you carefully place your mouth on the rim to take the first sip.
"Excuse me? What would you like to order?"
You jolt out of your thoughts. A sense of deja vu washes over you as you stare through the cashier waiting for your answer.
"I'll get the signature latte," you make out eventually.