Dear my beloved Starbucks,
You and I go way back, back before I was even supposed to be drinking coffee. Yes, I confess, I would sneak sips of my mom’s beautifully crafted nonfat lattes with extra foam before I was tall enough to peer over the counter. As I grew up your delicious concoctions of peppermint and mocha warmed me during the cold winters and your assorted icy beverages cooled me in the summer. I speak “Starbucks” fluently, can tell a lot about a person by what they order, and even have a gold card with my name on it to prove I am part of the club. I studied, met friends, debated life’s tough questions, wrote countless papers, worked, mended a broken heart or two, challenged my beliefs, loved, fought, grew, cried, laughed, and lived in the comfort of your espresso wielding arms.
And now, after all of that, you taunt me. You see I left the coffee capitol of the world, or Seattle to most, a few weeks ago with a (very large) coffee in my hand. But what I didn’t know as that as I was pulling away with the glowing green goddess sign fading away in my rearview mirror is that it would be the last time I was able to enjoy you. As a friend put it “Seattleites need their coffee and the rest of the country just doesn’t understand!”. See – she’s already been through what I am going through (and survived so I guess there is a small glimmer of hope). Moving from a place where there was at least one coffee shop on every corner to a place where the closest coffee shop is 2 hours and another state away leaves this espresso-loving girl empty handed.
I made it through days 1 and 2 ok but by day 3 the withdrawal from my morning coffee ritual was taking its toll. And then, Starbucks, you go and tease me - I log into my email to see a loving note from you describing the latest coffee-goodness and a coupon to come in to enjoy said coffee-goodness. On my Facebook – pictures of people happily posing together with their perfection in a white and green cup.
To this end I beg of you, plead of you – make a Starbucks magically appear in my small corner of non-Seattle or at least stop taunting me. But really, really I am hoping you can make a Starbucks magically appear. I will gladly assist in the endeavor of teaching non-Seattleites all of the glory that can be found in your four walls (or drive-through if they are in a hurry) and we can be happy together again!
Yours always (or at least when I visit Seattle),