Indignity upon indignity
Work is about to make me snap, but, rather than run through the office screaming, I decided to take a short coffee break to buy a latte from the cafe downstairs. I ask them to put the drink in my personal mug, which saves them from using a disposable cup (and also saves me 10 cents).

After I pay and leave, I look down and realize that my 16-ounce mug is filled to the brim with liquid. Which means that my tall (12-ounce) latte, which is supposed to be composed of 1 shot of espresso + milk + foam, has become 16 ounces composed of 1 shot of espresso + milk. In other words, a mug full of warm milk that looked at a coffee bean and ran away.

Thanks, barista.

Yes, this is immature and hyperbolic whining. It's for the sake of catharsis rather than me expecting any sympathy.