A cup of coffee to go, please.

Holy siht, I just took a sip of the cup of coffee I ordered.  It's like a pint of espresso.  There must be 3 shots of liquid black gold in there. 

It's just a cup of coffee.  You'd think it would be quite simple, really.

I approach the nice man and he says, "G'day.  Can I help you, Miss?  (I seem to be a "Miss" in Australia.)  On cue, the pre-stammering begins, when my brain begins overthinking, a process similar to the spinning of cotton candy in the state fair.  

"Um, yes.  I'd like... um... a cup.  of coffee."

"Uh, yes, Miss.  What kind of coffee?"

In Starbucks America, I've seen "Regular" coffee referred to as "American" coffee.  So, when I asked for American coffee, there was no visible response of recognition--  just a tilting of the head, a widening of the eyes, and a patient blank stare.  Maybe the thought that, since I was an American, it would stand to reason that I might order an American cup of coffee.

"I'm sorry, what would you like, Miss?"

"Um, the uh.... regular kind?  A cup of... um... regular coffee?"

"Right.  Fine, Miss.  What size would you like?"

"Um... (implementing handy Archaeic Pointing System [A.P.S.] {which translates effectively in Darwin Airport, thankfully})-- that one."  I point to the large which is, of course, the New Medium.

"Right.  Thank you, Miss."  He turns to Jrhhrfflrn (Some Name) and delegates, "a large, regular black, please."  Then, to me, asks, "to take away?"

Well, I don't intend to drink it out of the spigot.  But, oh-- yes, I see what you mean.  "uh, oh, yes, right.  To take away."

(I've been here three weeks now.  This shouldn't be this difficult.)

So begins the grinding of the beans, the whirring of the coffee maker, and the sweet sounds and smells of percolating and dripping.   Jrhhrfflrn (Some Name) presents me with my lovely 6.00 cup of coffee.  It looks remarkably-- suspiciously-- like an espresso... in a 16 oz. cup.  Dear lord.  But, no, I've ordered a regular coffee.  This should be fine.   

Jrhhrfflrn (Some Name) articulately and clearly relays some information to me of which I have no idea what he's said. 

"Sorry.  Excuse me?" 

He repeats, using A.P.S., indicating the sugar counter, over there.  I detect the words, "sugar" and "there,"  so I'm pretty sure I'm on the right track. 

"Oh, yes, thank you."

As I move to leave, I notice that there is no lid on my coffee (yes, I'm just now noticing, thanks for pointing that out).  I turn to Jrhhrfflrn (Some Name) and ask, "May I have a lid?"   Jrhhrfflrn (S.N.) smiles (with just a hint of exasperation and condescention) and patiently replies, for what I now understand is the third time-- that the lids are over there (A.P.S.), near the sugar. 

Okay.  I have the coffee, and I'm proceeding to the sugar and lids counter.  It looks strong, so I add three sugars.  I take a sip, and it's like putting a petticoat on a prostitute.  Ain't no sweetening THIS cup of joe.

And, now I notice that there is no cream here at the "finishing station."  So, I return to Jrhhrfflrn (S.N.), and I meekly, eek out, in my least pathetic and apologetic tone, "uh... so, when I ordered a "Black," that meant, like, black, with no milk, right? 

"Yes, Miss."

"May I have some cream in my coffee, then?"

Jrhhrfflrn (S.N.) pulls out a canister of whipped cream.  I look down at the whipped cream and in my now even more pathetic and apologetic tone, ask, "uh... do you have just... um... regular cream?"  He is lost; as he is clearly holding out and offering me the cream!  And, I am declining it and requesting it, at the same time. 

And, Jrhhrfflrn (S.N.) looks at me as if I were a twinge daft, and I recover. 

"Or, milk is fine."  As I notice that there are two quarts (oops, litres) of dairy product next to me on the counter.  So, using the handy A.P.S., I indicate to the bottle marked, "Milk."  I am hoping that this is "milk."

Jrhhrfflrn (S.N.) hands me the "milk," and I pour some into the "large" cup of "regular" coffee to "take away."  It's like putting a petticoat on a prostitute.  A dollop of milk ain't softening the blow on THIS mug of brew. 

Jrhhrfflrn (S.N.) sees me struggling, and offers the milk to me, again. 

"So, if I want cream in my coffee, should I have said, I want a White Regular Coffee or a White Coffee?" 

Jrhhrfflrn (S.N.) replies, "No.  Just ask for a cup of coffee with milk, to go." 

Jesus H. Christ!  Three weeks I've been here!  And, this country speaks English!

From now on, I'm drinking tea.