Ken stands outside my cube and holds his Dutch Bros. coffee cup from the top, as if it were toxic waste. “For some reason today, this coffee tastes like ass.”
I say, “Did you order the special Ass Latte?”
“No. I’m pretty sure I didn’t.”
I think about the reason he goes to Dutch Bros. in the first place; the cute girls who work there. I think about what I know about my friend. “Well,” I say, “maybe they just know how much you like butts.”
