By losing the receipt not only is the visual impact gone but also the name of the barrista who owned the act. Still, this brief moment in time is no less worth telling.
On my way home from the Riverside Arts Market I found myself craving a Starbucks unsweetened green ice tea. Thankfully a new Starbucks recently opened in the Tinseltown area which has a drive through. As I pulled to the service window the girl/woman recanted the price and, as they always do, asked if I wanted my receipt.
The usual unthinking response is “no”. But for some reason the thought of being social took seat and a memory of past experiences in which the receipt might afford a special benefit flooded the room.
“I don’t but unless there is something special on the receipt that I might need”, I said.
“No deals today,” she replied. “But I have connections so I might be able to do something.”
We both politely laughed. She moved onto whatever business was in front of her while I reviewed email on my iPhone. When my tea was ready she handed me the Venti container, a straw and the receipt. Initially striking me that she forgot I did not want it I briefly glanced at the small slip of paper while catching her smiling eyes from my peripheral. On the receipt was written:
You’re so special!