Jeff Simmermon recounts his recent experience with a snobbish barista at Murky Coffee in Arlington, VA.
I just ordered my usual summertime pick-me-up: a triple shot of espresso dumped over ice. And the guy at the counter looked me in the eye with a straight face and said "I'm sorry, we can't serve iced espresso here. It's against our policy."
The whole world turned brown and chunky for a second. Flecks of corn floated past my pupils, and it took me a second to blink it all away.
"Okay," I said, "I'll have a triple espresso and a cup of ice, please." He rolled his eyes and rang it up, took my money, gave me change. I stood there and waited. Then the barista called me over to the bar. I reached for it, and he leaned over and locked his eyes with mine, saying "Hey man. What you're about to do … that's really, really Not Okay."
Murky Coffee, Arlington: Hold That Espresso Between Your Knees (And I Am Not Lying)