Here's how I know I may have gone to Starbucks a little too often this past winter. A hip college aged girl approached me from out of nowhere in a school building and spoke in a chipper sweet voice, "Hey, I know you. You order a tall black and white hot chocolate with a squirt of cinnamon dulche' at Starbucks, right? My name is Austen. What's yours?"
Oh, dear. Makes me feel guilty about the children of Compassion I could have sponsored with that money.