One iced Americano, light ice, two cup sleeves. Same order for three years, and every time he says it like it's his first.
No reason to change how I say it.
Hey, one for me too! Parking the truck in the alley today.
Coffee shop at the end of the alley. Still haven't collected on the bookshop's tab, three years running.
One iced Americano, light ice, two cup sleeves. Same order for three years, and every time he says it like it's his first.

The second window seat's been reserved for three years running. Funny thing is, he always gets his to go.
1 more here. They open when your story reaches stage 4.
Into the storyFirst hot drink he's ordered in three years. No 'light ice' out of him, so I asked three times to be sure. He just smiled.
Asked him to taste-test the new fall drink. He took it in three careful sips, dead serious. Verdict: ‘Good.’ One word.

Three years and he still hasn't learned to carry two cups in one hand. Gave him three sleeves today and he insisted on using just two.
He's been closing late these days. Three nights this week the light's still on when I pass by after locking up.
For the first time, he asked me something. What time the cakes run out, he wanted to know. A man who won't touch anything sweet.