My daughter is in college now, driving her own car, paying her own insurance and apparently getting strung out on her own Starbucks coffee. Fancy, schmancy mocha-locha-lattas almost every day.
As I explain how her little "indulgence" can become an expensive habit, she enthusiastically nods in agreement while explaining how the very nice man ("Mom, he's old! About 56") lights up when she walks in and asks, "Your usual?"
She sighs contently and says, "He knows my name, Mom."