Today on my lunch break I stopped in a Starbucks at Dundas and Roncesvalles to pick up a couple of drinks for my coworker and I. I ordered a Mocha for my coworker, her usual... a delicious chocolate-y treat that comes with whipped cream on top (unless you specify otherwise).

When the barista handed off the Mocha, I noticed that it was without whipped cream and politely asked her to put some on. With an apology and a please. Like it was my fault.

She gave me a look. A look I know well, because I used to give it to deserving customers back in my espresso-slinging days.

"Um, I asked you if you wanted whipped cream, and you said no," she said. Untrue, I wanted to cry! False!

"No, you didn't, actually," I said, politely (again). "I'm sorry to bother you, but it's not for me, and I know she wanted whipped cream."

The girl gave me the look — again — and took the drink back. She made the next person's espresso, put the whipped cream on my drink, and gave it back, begrudgingly. She shamed me, for wanting the whipped cream. She shamed me and I saw it in her eyes.

I'll be looking out for you, dark-haired girl at the Dundas and Roncesvalles Starbucks. I know your game.