QUOTE : Hamlet had started to tremble, a look of pain and hopelessness on his face as he stared wild-eyed at the huge choice laid out in front of him. “To espresso or to latte, that is the question,” he muttered, his free will evaporating rapidly. I had asked Hamlet for something he couldn’t easily supply: a decision. “Whether ’tis tastier on the palate to choose white mocha over plain,” he continued in a rapid garble, “or to take a cup to go. Or a mug to stay, or extra cream, or have nothing, and by opposing the endless choice, end one’s heartache—” “Cousin Eddie!” I said sharply. “Cut it out!” “To froth, to sprinkle, perchance to drink, and in that