need a little time to wake up, wake up?

{Yes, most of this is old and second-hand. Sorry}

I work in Pret a Manger. Therefore, I serve many a person who is in search of coffee. We serve a variety of coffee types, latte, cappuccino, mocha, espresso, macchiato, filter (white and black) and americano (white and black). Any involving milk can be made using skimmed, whole or soya milk, and all except filter can be decaf and either half, double or regular strength. We don't have to put chocolate on anything. And yet, we sell a lot of cappuccinos.

Following the rise of the coffee shop, many people were left confused. They just wanted a coffee, and when confronted with a huge board covered with unpronouncable coffees, a complicated 3-tier sizing system where tall meant small and an impatient teenager "Barista" (a what?) waiting for their order, they panicked. What to do? Just pick one. Any of them. And if it's horrible, don't get it next time. In the heat of the moment, a cappuccino was chosen, and as this was not too traumatic, word was passed onto friends, and a cappuccino became a thing of vague certainty in an uncertain world. A route out of the thorny maze that is the modern coffee shop. Something they can cling to, providing stability in the midst of the changing world, flailing like a wild strom around them. Their refuge.

But why was it cappuccino, the half-froth non-drink, that emerged as the coffee-rock? Perhaps, while furiously scanning the coffee board for something at least vaguely familiar, something stood out. The letter C. It worked for Iraq Al Qaeda, and on this coincidence of spelling a tradition was formed. And now, when coffee is required, swathes of people ask for a cappuccino. "A coffee" has come to mean "a cappuccino".

So now, when people want a coffee, they get a cappuccino, even though they acually want filter (or, more probably, instant). Why? Why get something when you want something else, especially when that something else is cheaper and easier and quicker? Why get froth when you want coffee? Now you have found your feet and realised that coffee shops are, on the whole, not out to trick you, why do you fall into the trap and pay the same amount of money for a drink that has had 50 grammes of milk missing? Perhaps you like it frothy and strong, but to be honest you are going to get a spoon (from the trolley just behind you on the right) dig through the foam to the liquid part and complain to your coffee-buddy that it's only really 2 thirds full, and a bit too strong, aren't you? I know you are, because next week you're going to come back and ask for a "not-too-frothy cappuccino". It's called a latte. But then you wouldn't know that, cos you don't know what you're asking for, do you? If you like the idea of non-filter, why not branch out, try something else? Ask us, we will advise. If you like filter, why not just get filter? Perhaps because that would show you aren't trendy enough to understand the idea of proper coffee. But if you ask for cappuccino, I can tell. You don't understand, you haven't tried, your opinion isn't your own.

But now, people are learning about the wonder of the americano. It's like normal coffee. You can have with milk. And it has an italian name, so no face is lost in asking for it. This discovery is being embraced almost as warmly as that of cappuccino but still, novices display their inexperience just as try to hide it behind an italian coffee name. Filter and ameicano cost slightly more than an espresso; both are the same price so the board says "Filter / Americano - £1.35". Keen to show their knowledge and understanding, the coffee buyer does not ask for cappuccino, but instead realises what they really want and decide to take the plunge. But, inadvertantly, they plunge in completely the wrong way, leaving their naivety behind them, floating on the surface for all to see.

"Any hot drinks?"
"Yes. A filter americano." (Ah ha. See. Normal coffee, but with an air of sophistication and knowledge)
"Sorry?"
"A filter americano." (Have I got it wrong? I'm beginning to get a little flustered here.)
"Which one would you like?"
"Sorry?" (I knew I should've had a cappuccino.)
"They're different things. Which would you like?" (They should've asked for a cappuccino.)
"Ummmm....filter" (ARG I'm never doing this again)
"Would you like milk?"
"Yes" (Yes! I just want a normal coffee! Can't you see that!?)
"That's £1.35 please" (Yes I can. Ha)

In all, the moral of this story is.

1. Get want you want.

But you don't necessarily know what this is.

2. In order to find what you want, try something you might.

But you may become unstuck in the process. For example, in their attempted trying of the americano miracle, many a person has misguidedly assumed that this safehouse of a coffee, as it is the plainest of the plain, must be the cheapest on the board. You've forgotten it's name, you remember it's Italian, you ask for an espresso. Woops. I can normally tell when this error is made, and can grab a teeny espresso cup to demonstrate what exactly "espresso - the little one" means. But some some unwitting consumers slip through my net. Or, I have to admit, sometimes I don't bother. A husband and wife come into the queue, she asks him for an espresso before slipping off to save a recently vacated table. He comes to the counter and asks for a cappuccino (what else?) and an espresso. When I ask if he's staying in or taking away he'll reply in a loud, slow voice "A CAPPUCCINO AND AN EXPRESSO". Yeh, thanks, I heard you the first time, and it's eSpresso actually. I quite look forward to the look on his face as I place his drinks on his tray. He asks "Is that what she asked for?" Yes, yes, it is. He returns to his table and she berates him. She told him what to ask for, he must have messed up. Gosh, how hard can it be? Eventually, she relents and comes over to the counter. And this is my favourite part.
"I'm sorry, I asked him to get me an espresso"
"That is an espresso"
*puzzled look* "Oh!" *thinks* "Why's it so small?"

So indeed, in the end, just remember this.

3. Yes. We are judging you.

And if you don't what to pay £1.79 for a coffee that's half missing, go home.