Welcome Back and Happy Fall, Dear Readers:
A slice of life from late summer.
It’s right before Labor Day, and I walk into a trendy Chicago coffee place. Without consulting the menu board, I order a a medium black coffee. There are two baristas. Both faces go blank. Then, one explains that they “only make lattes.”
Well, you can’t make a latte without espresso, right?
I ask for a double-shot of espresso with a splash of hot water (an Americano).
“We only make lattes.” The barista repeats.
It’s a small-store space. I’m the only customer. The stainless steel espresso machine gleams behind them, reflecting and stretching our physical forms in an almost parallel universe. I realize they are more than baristas. They are guardians of the Latte Temple. Resolute in their duty. A naked cup of espresso shall not pass into mundane reality.
In silence, I stare back. My caffeine addiction is pure. I drink coffee black or not at all.
The second barista blinks first. Perhaps he’s tempted to walk on the wild side. He asks if I’m sure. because they only make lattes.
I’m sure.
Shoulders square, he turns, facing the espresso machine, bows his head slightly, mumbles something inscrutable, and begins the forbidden ritual. There is grinding, tamping, hissing, a dark stream pouring into the cup. Then, a splash of hot water. He passes the cup to his associate. Fastening the lid to the cup, she says, “I still have to charge you for a latte.”
Since it must be this way, I agree to pay for the double espresso that masquerades as a latte, knowing it’s false, knowing they know it’s false. Together, we consummate the contactless transaction governed by one almighty algorithm.
It’s now six weeks later; I’m still thinking about the Latte Temple. It’s not because they charged me $7 for the espresso masquerade. I happily paid. (I’m caffeine addicted, remember.)
I’m more curious about living in a world where we can see what is possible, but choose not to act on it.
When did possibility become limited to whatever has a button on the register? Is the world becoming one automated menu? Maybe the baristas were programmed from afar? Maybe Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, and Sam Altman only drink lattes?
Something to think about over my next double espresso.