It's finally your turn at the counter. You walk up to the barista (is this nervousness you're feeling?). You've only only got one thing on your mind. You order montag soup, the famous soup made by montag, the one that everyone's talking about, the soup that's more tasty and fulfilling than any other soup.
You find a seat at a table while you wait for your soup. The soup is all you can think about. Your body a shaking a little with anticipation (what's going on, are really getting worked up over soup?). You count down the moments until you can taste that famous soup.
Your name is called and you arise to retrieve your soup. This is it. You carefully carry the soup back to your table, try desperately not to spill (you think about how you might cry if you did). You sit with it for a moment (is this even real), staring into it's tasty depths. This is montag soup, the famous soup made by montag, the one that everyone's talking about, the soup that's more tasty and fulfilling than any other soup.
Someone at the next table decided to strike up a conversation (are they really that attractive or is it just the stylish "montag's café" t-shirt that's catching your eye?). They give you a polite smile and ask, "Is that montag soup? The famous soup made by montag? The one that everyone's talking about? The soup that's more tasty and fulfilling than any other soup?"
You smile back (and maybe even giggle a little?). "It is," you whisper coyly.