I am not a really rebellious person. I think I protested something once in my life but I think it had more to do with the fact that the protest occurred where I ate lunch every day rather than the fact that I felt I needed to exercise my right to freedom of speech. It was a really good sandwich, by the way.
But there is one thing that I rebel against, every time I can. I refuse to order my hot chocolate in some abnormally, confusing way. I order a small hot chocolate with skim milk. I do not order a tall or grande. I don’t order a 12 oz. I don’t order a skinny hot chocolate. I refuse. Sometimes I order an apple cider, but it is a small as well. I refuse to learn the different sizes each coffee shop decides to choose. If you cannot figure out which cup is the smallest one there, I will not buy a hot chocolate from you. And if you cannot figure that when I am asking for skim milk, I want skim milk and you only understand the word skinny, then you are an idiot.
So that is where my rebellion lies. And as I write this, I realize that I might be a tiny bit boring. Wait. Some people who have memorized coffee orders might not understand the word tiny. I might be a grande bit boring. Or is it a tall? I think we can all agree that it is a good thing I don’t drink coffee.
Maybe that can be my cause; but then some people might think I don’t like Colombia due to their coffee. The world is just too confusing today.
I think that is what I will rebel against: confusion. Which brings me back to my point of refusing to call the smallest cup in the joint a tall. Wow. I feel socially vindicated now.
Thank you for being a part of this.
