I was buying a second coffee and the same cafe in the King Khalid International Airport in Riyadh when I realized I was rehearsing a familiar confusing transaction: I order another coffee, and after paying the cashier or barista (or mutant of both), I request to use the same cup I already have. Usually, the object apprehended in the transaction is a disposable plastic cup with a paper straw sticking out, sometimes a paper cup destined for a heated beverage, where a pile of melted ice about halfway up to the top remains, me having devoured the black liquid gold almost instantly after collecting the order. Almost invariably my request is met with puzzlement, followed by friendly insistence on providing me with a new cup for the second coffee, countered by my dogged reverse insistence on reusing the original cup for the new coffee, initiating a tit for tat struggle over my caffeine delivery receptacle that frequently results in a second cup.
Much to my chagrin, I hear some variation of “Please, sir, no problem. We will use a new cup.” And momentarily I overcome with irritation, before receiving the second coffee, and letting caffeine’s delight wash it away. But in Riyadh on that early morning, I wasn’t overcome with irritation. It struck me, finally, that the cashiers and baristas I was encountering probably rarely encountered this sort of request. Perhaps, I realized, they weren’t trained to respond to these requests. Then it occurred to me that that was bullshit; in fact, they were probably acting in accordance with some policy of the café, to always provide a new cup, if the customer isn’t using their own reusable cup. In Riyadh also, these cashiers and baristas were south Asian, and getting caught out not complying with a workplace policy was not in their best interest. And therein presented the dissolution of all future irritation.
