Sometimes, on my way to work I stop off at a little coffee kiosk and get myself some morning caffeine to fuel my day. The man who works at said kiosk is a compact, very muscular fellow in his 40s with ugly bleached blond highlights, leathery skin and a scruffy goatee. He's as straight as straight can be, and often calls me "boss" or "man" with the occasional "brah" thrown in for good measure.Today when I ordered my ladylike nonfat vanilla latte, the kiosk man was humming a tune. It took me a while to place it, but he was humming a horrible, horrible song: "The Climb" by Miley Cyrus. That sort of bewildered me.
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