Sandy hobbled past the people milling around the pickup counter. The barista slammed her Grande Iced Caramel Cloud Macchiato behind two carry out trays. Their owner was busy yelling at his phone to notice his order was complete and in the way. Her gnarled hand pushed them to the side. Moaning softly, she reached for her cup.

“Those are mine. Why are you touching my drinks?” The man rushed forward bumping into her, as he thrust his arm between them.

Startled Sandy tu...