Closed

A few blocks from the Promenade, the shiny Starbucks on the corner of the boulevard was the only thing alive  a half-hour from midnight. Streets were eerily still and empty for a typical March Wednesday.

Peter walked in, squinting from the lights. There were a few other folks sitting, maybe five, all silent.

"Yes, hello. Here's our menu." Peter saw before him a small man, thin down to the sly smile. He pointed to the board behind him, the choices were endless.

"No. Thanks, I know what I'm having. Just the Doubleshot on ice. That's it." Peter looked around at the others. No one sitting at the tables moved at all.

The little man cleared his throat roughy for a full five seconds, then stopped abruptly. "Yes, fine. Our most popular cold drink. Oh, so sorry, forgot to mention when you entered- we are a legacy Starbucks. You may sit anywhere while we prepare your order."

"Legacy? Okay, good. What's that mean?" Peter was getting more wary by the second, something was wrong. He then heard grinding sounds from somewhere in the back, and people working.

"Legacy means our procedures are slightly different at this location. For example, we roast beans one at a time. Then, we brew each ground  bean separately in precisely one tablespoon of spring water." The employee beamed with pride.

Peter was speechless, thinking at first it was some kind of stale coffeehouse gag. But, it clearly wasn't as the little man was about to continue.

"No, wait. Are you for real?" Peter wasn't interested in an answer to his rhetorical question. "That's going to take forever!", he blurted out incredulously.

"Yes, actually not as long as that." The barista was smiling. "Okay right, very funny." Peter looked again at the other customers. He realized they're all simply waiting for their orders. "Look, that's nuts. I'll be waiting all damn night!"

"Fine, you're likely right. But, you are still in luck, sir! Legacy also means we are never closed!"