She walked the streets of New York
With five dollars for the day
She stopped at Starbucks
Pressed her nose to the door
Sat outside till the crowd thinned
She stepped into a Starbucks
Her thirst was strong
She stood in line
Timid was she for this was a first
She was taken aback
When suddenly swarms of people did come
She sauntered in from the cold
Stylish she thought she was
Little did she know
That others saw her as gauche
All she desired was a taste of home
Where they called it ‘expresso’
The corner café served the yummy drink
Frothy, sugary milk with a touch of coffee
With an almond biscuit on the side
Was manna from Heaven
She stood in line
All she wanted was her ‘expresso’
When her turn came
She stammered her order
Burnt by the scorn that Barista added to her order
When she got her coffee
It was black and dark
Bitter as the humiliation she felt
There was no trace of the milky frothy goodness of her childhood drink
For in America her ‘expresso’
Was a cappuccino
An almond biscuit there was none
Her language was foreign
Her accent too thick
She sipped her coffee
She was naive
She was sad
Priya Radhakrishnan, MD, FACP
Dr. Radhakrishnan is Chair of the Board of Governors, American College of Physicians
