Facebook Post: 2019-10-07T08:57:17

I had to kill some time this morning while I waited for my son to drop his car off at the Tint Factory. So, although I dislike doing it, I decided to buy a coffee this morning, at a Starbucks. I order my drink and the order taker asks me, “Boy or a girl?”

I’m almost never surprised, but I didn’t even see this question coming. “I’m sorry?”

I’m thinking to myself, who cares if the coffee is a boy or girl, I’m going to drink it, not buy clothing and dress it. (That could be a thing on the West Coast, I’m not ruling it out)

She says again, “Boy or a girl?” and all I can do is look confused. Then she says, “Your dog! Boy or a girl?”

***Understanding dawns****

Apparently Thor wanted to order, too, and he had his head behind mine looking at the camera. They gave him some sort of puppy latte or doggy chino thing.

By Dan Granot

I chose the Shorter Whitman because of his work, "Song of Myself" and because of my self-deprecating sense of humor. I am under no illusion that I can write successful essays or poetry, but I have been known to write them anyway.

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