So my dyslexic friend and I walk into a Starbucks. We find a table, and he volunteers to go and get the drinks. Taking the chance for a cheap laugh, I point out the most overly complicated, quasi-coffee -appucino beverage I can see on the menu, hand him a fiver, and proceed to wait in anticipation. A few minutes later he returns, placing the correct drink before me, and smiles - knowing that he had foiled my ploy. But then he tried to give me my change...