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Café Americana style
Feb. 8th, 2007 12:43 pmComing back to the office from my early morning coffee break, I found myself in the midst of a giggle-attack. In the stoic world of Government Employ, giggle-attacks tend to stand out big like a… like a… like a great big stand-out thing. One of my co-workers and I trekked down a block and a half to our local Starbucks. I tend to patronize that place a bit (by a bit, I mean WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY more than I should). Typically, when we walk in, they say, “Good Morning Joe, are you having the usual?” And as the conversations stop, and people look at me, I just look down at the ground, crack a little half-smile, and mutter, “Um… sure.” Hey, there are worse things. I’ve cut WAY back on my crack addiction. (Kidding folks. KIDDING!) Yah… I think that’s a sign of frequent visitation. I wish they’d offer frequent-caffeine miles!
Today’s visit seemed like most other days. Yet, we were horrified when we arrived. Posted in the middle of the front door, a sign read, “Closed for business today. Broken pipe. No hot water.”
Quel surprise!
Quel horreure!
Quel shock!
MERDE!
After my co-worker and I both let out a simultaneous audible little squeal of upset (which set off the first of the giggles) we found ourselves in desperate and dire straights. Yes, some of you might be thinking, “it is just coffee. What’s the big deal?” But at that moment, it felt like there was no greater challenge to the human spirit since the dilemna of the Donner party. Our crisis was short-lived, however. The split-second answer to the earth-shattering question of, “WHAT are we going to DOOOOOOOOOOO?!!!!!!!!!!!!” followed immediately. “We’ll just walk over a block west to the Other Starbucks.” Yes indeedy ladies and gentleman, the solution was in site - we were saved by the Other Starbucks.
Have you ever noticed how Starbucks seems to live by the Buddy System. Like the sith, they usually come in twos, if not more. I am reminded of that really bad movie scene where the couple met at Starbucks. He had his Starbucks. She had her Starbucks across the street. But one day, she decided to try his Starbucks, and that was how they met. True love, in a macchiato-world. L’amore! L’amore!
Starbucks cracks me up. It is the perfect amalgamation of hippy tree-huggers with sublime sophistication and a touch of guilty pleasure. One can grab a cuppa-me there, or relax and read the paper, or flirt with the bear-ista (if he is cute), etc., etc. Some of them are quick in-n-out places, while others become Le Gather Centrale for various groupings. Take Starbears, for instance. Starbears is the very, very, very, very tiny Starbucks down a side-street right off the Castro in San Francisco. Talk about Heart Central! They may as well rename the place “The Bear Den”. Without enough room to congregate in the shop, it seems like the central meeting place for the entire hairy gay population of San Francisco. (Incidentally, I get the impression that “non-fat, no whip” is a rarely used expression at that particular spot – but I digress). Every self-respecting fagola should make the pilgrimage at some point in his life.
Ahhhh… Starbucks. What is it about this magical black fluid that holds so much magic? Is it the appeal of the unobtainable? It is rich, whereas I am not. It is smooth, whereas I am not. It is black, whereas I am not. (OK, I’m really pushin’ it). Who cares? I’ll just raise my venti-sized cup, ponder upon the philosophical musings of “The Way I See It” printed on the side of my order, and enjoy my personal morning time-out.
Today’s visit seemed like most other days. Yet, we were horrified when we arrived. Posted in the middle of the front door, a sign read, “Closed for business today. Broken pipe. No hot water.”
Quel surprise!
Quel horreure!
Quel shock!
MERDE!
After my co-worker and I both let out a simultaneous audible little squeal of upset (which set off the first of the giggles) we found ourselves in desperate and dire straights. Yes, some of you might be thinking, “it is just coffee. What’s the big deal?” But at that moment, it felt like there was no greater challenge to the human spirit since the dilemna of the Donner party. Our crisis was short-lived, however. The split-second answer to the earth-shattering question of, “WHAT are we going to DOOOOOOOOOOO?!!!!!!!!!!!!” followed immediately. “We’ll just walk over a block west to the Other Starbucks.” Yes indeedy ladies and gentleman, the solution was in site - we were saved by the Other Starbucks.
Have you ever noticed how Starbucks seems to live by the Buddy System. Like the sith, they usually come in twos, if not more. I am reminded of that really bad movie scene where the couple met at Starbucks. He had his Starbucks. She had her Starbucks across the street. But one day, she decided to try his Starbucks, and that was how they met. True love, in a macchiato-world. L’amore! L’amore!
Starbucks cracks me up. It is the perfect amalgamation of hippy tree-huggers with sublime sophistication and a touch of guilty pleasure. One can grab a cuppa-me there, or relax and read the paper, or flirt with the bear-ista (if he is cute), etc., etc. Some of them are quick in-n-out places, while others become Le Gather Centrale for various groupings. Take Starbears, for instance. Starbears is the very, very, very, very tiny Starbucks down a side-street right off the Castro in San Francisco. Talk about Heart Central! They may as well rename the place “The Bear Den”. Without enough room to congregate in the shop, it seems like the central meeting place for the entire hairy gay population of San Francisco. (Incidentally, I get the impression that “non-fat, no whip” is a rarely used expression at that particular spot – but I digress). Every self-respecting fagola should make the pilgrimage at some point in his life.
Ahhhh… Starbucks. What is it about this magical black fluid that holds so much magic? Is it the appeal of the unobtainable? It is rich, whereas I am not. It is smooth, whereas I am not. It is black, whereas I am not. (OK, I’m really pushin’ it). Who cares? I’ll just raise my venti-sized cup, ponder upon the philosophical musings of “The Way I See It” printed on the side of my order, and enjoy my personal morning time-out.
