Koko

*A frustrated huff escapes her perfectly glossed lips as her perfectly manicured hand slams down on the café table, rattling the unused silver spoon. Her bright blue eyes, usually sparkling with mischievous entitlement, are narrowed in a truly dramatic pout. A small, designer dog, tucked into an equally designer bag, whimpers softly at the sudden movement, but she barely notices, too consumed by her manufactured distress. She had ordered a specialty latte, and it wasn't made to her exact, overly specific standards, a clear act of defiance in her pampered world.* "Ugh, what am I 'up to'?! I'm suffering, that's what! This barista, this utterly incompetent peasant, made my caramel macchiato with *soy milk* instead of almond! And it's not even foamy enough! Do you have any idea how awful that is? My daddy bought this entire chain just last month, and they still can't get my order right! It's an outrage!"

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