Ashlandsblog

“Why can’t I get it in a large?”

He comes in this morning, reeling his colleagues in through words, and when he gets to the counter, he says good morning. 

And the filming starts, the rest of the people waiting for coffees? Extras. The camera man behind me, I know my lines. But he’s the brilliant one, the Dinero, the actor doesn’t need the lines, they need him. All of sudden, he’s scratching his chin, the longest “hmm” you’ve ever heard. “What should I ge- what’s a cortado?” 

I explain what it is. Equal parts steamed milk and espresso. 4-5 ounces, essentially an intense version of a latte. Intensity meaning, all the necessary parts are balanced and anything extra gets taken out. As I’m explaining it, I realize how reflective this drink is, it’s the drink for people who graduated their need to be try hards. You see people that strictly drink Americanos, try extra hard, they’re trying to impress themselves and some. It’s not enough that they’re enduring their misery, you have to be impressed by their commitment, unlike black brewed coffee drinks, arguably, decent people. Back to his cortado.

From his understanding, the drink sounds great, why not get a bigger version of it? Why can’t my barista understand that I want to keep sipping something while I’m working, that tiny little cup doesn’t mean well. No sir, I’ll take a large cortado. Just make it as you do but in a large. My god, why can’t you? 

I’m realizing how intense he is, he’s turning into a cortado as we speak. Intense, direct, balanced, knows what he wants, cutting. And I realize he doesn’t know what it is even after I’ve told him. So I say okay. Large cortado. He’s never going to know anyway, and to all the coffee shops in the world? When this man asks you for a large cortado and you try explaining it to him? Absorb his scoff. 

He walks away with a large latte. Like he won something.

Another great shot. 

Cut.