So the Other Day at Starbucks . . .

So I was at Starbucks the other day and I was with one of my friends. We had met there to compare the internships that we had just started in Buffalo. As we were standing in line to order a Dad and his son walked in. The little boy caught my attention because he looked just like my little brother, only a little older. This little boy must have been about 8 years old. The Dad had a Dairy Queen ice cream thing in his hand. I deduced by astute observation that the Dad and the daughter, who was older and stayed in the car, had gotten ice cream from Dairy Queen, but the little boy wanted something different. He wanted a Strawberries and Crème Frappuccino. Smart kid.
My friend and I got to the counter and ordered our drinks. I ordered a Double Shot on Ice and he got a Double Chocolaty Chip Frappuccino. We took our drinks outside and sat at a table to talk. It was a beautiful, warm, early-summer afternoon. After a few minutes the boy and his Dad emerged from the store. The boy could look at nothing but his drink. His eyes where huge and he wore a grin that communicated nothing but satisfaction. I was so happy for him. I smiled and allowed my attention to return to my friend and our conversation.
Just then I heard one of the most sickening sounds I know of. It was the sound of a full Starbucks cup hitting the parking lot. Before the boy could catch his breath his Dad completed the crushing of the boy’s heart. “I’m not paying for another one of those.” Perhaps allowing his frustration to get the best of him; the frustration he had due to making a special trip to Starbucks, which he had done a good job of hiding up until that point.
The boy’s response crushed my spirit. All he could manage to utter, in his 8 year old, broken, trying not to cry voice was “Awww Man”. It took all the restraint I could muster not to leap out of my chair and offer to buy the boy another one myself.
The boy climbed slowly into the back seat of the SUV, he looked numb. I was trying hard not to stare. The Dad went back into the store; I was hoping he had a change of heart after realizing his mistake. But he emerged only with napkins to clean the mess off the outside of the car. I couldn’t look any more. Half because I really need to keep from being rude and half because I didn’t want to accidentally communicate my disgust for the Dad by an involuntary dirty look.
The Dad went back into the store to throw away the napkins. He stayed in there longer than that though. I could not let myself look at him, besides my back was to the door – so it would have been obvious I was being nosy. He got in the car and drove away.
All this time my friend had been telling me about his first day at his new internship. I had been working hard to continue listening while this tragedy unfolded behind me. After the car was gone I interrupted my friend in mid sentence. “Did he bring out another one for him?!?” “Yeah, he did.” I was so relieved. I am not sure that I would have been able to sleep that night if he had not gotten another one. I was deeply invested emotionally in the outcome.
That was four days ago and haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I keep hearing the little boy’s words in my head.
“Awww Man”
They break my heart every time.