This (and an undeserved sense of badassness and/or entitlement) is why other countries hate America

Enter man and woman, both supersized, the woman supremely so.  She is too good for Starbucks air.  She has her own oxygen in tow.  I can't help feeling that she looks sad.  Sad in the way hospitals make people look sad and small and scared.  They both have rotton haircuts.  They have both piled into chairs.  She forms a heap.  It is impolite to stare.  

Enter Barista.  "Venti Mint Mocha Chip Frappucino?"  The drink is not in question, only the owner.  The woman claims the calories.  WE assume the Venti Caramel Frappucino in the Barista's other hand, then, belongs to the man.  We are wrong.  The Barista too.  The woman claims the calories.  The man gets only a Grande.  He reads, she drinks, she watches.  Is he going to finish that?

Enter boy with hideous face.  He sits, he drinks the second Venti, he ruins my story.  Damn.  Boy reads.  Man reads.  Woman, cup entirely drained, watches.  She wears a dress.  It's funny how ugly flowers are on dresses.