I don't think people fully appreciate how dangerous expresso machines can be.
While in training today at the youth group cafe, I had to brave the scalding metal and bubbling steam. After a few fail attempts (I used the wrong filter and created ultra caffeinated shots, the nozzle made shrieking sounds when I used it, etc.), I finally mastered the art of frothy steamed milk. Soon I was cracking out lattes and feeling pretty awesome.
I also would like to add that I am never, EVER going back to Starbucks' chai lattes.
It was also nice to exchange witty banter with people while pretending to wipe the countertops, racking my brain for something football-related to throw out at the right moment while also looking like I wasn't desperate for conversation, as well as resisting the urge to fix my bangs.
It's an art.
And now, belly full of chai and the sweet taste of victory, I shall retire to my beckoning bed.
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