Now what you are about to read may shock and offend all six of you, but the truth needs to be known and if at all possible my reputation redeemed with some explanation. Yes, I went into a Starbucks drive-through this morning and have been periodically indulging in the practice for some months now. Its been a long time since I left the siren behind both as a loyal barista and even longer as a consumer. Now I am an avid supporter of the local mom and pop places and they will forever be my dealers of choice. After a while though, you find yourself needing a break from the kitch and true passion for coffee that comes with a locally owned coffee bar. And that's when the green monster lures you back with conformity, convenience and cute baristas that flirt with you because it says to in the training manual. And for me there is something about having the dirty little secret of coming back, like hooking up with an ex, that makes my mochas taste almost... good.
Today while braving the perils of the drive-through line, I found myself trying to enter in through the wrong way, a problem I'm not to familiar with. While awkwardly trying to reposition myself before other vehicles took my spot, another car took my spot, well almost. The woman driving it noticed what I was doing and let me in. But soon after more and more cars piled up behind me and if I didn't let her in she'd never get a chance, not to mention she would have been in a lot of people's way. So I proceeded to let her in. Then I noticed she had a Texas license plate and immediately regretted my decision. But in the spirit of reaching across party lines I allowed myself to feel that I'd done the right thing. After about a 10 minute wait, she finally got to the counter to pay and I almost felt that she'd made eye contact with me through the side view mirror. She was pretty, with big brown hair and diva eyes and in that short moment of connection I realized I could really go for a cookie. Mmm... chocolate chip. The next moment she had her drink in the car and was gone.
As I pulled up to the window, the barista asked "grande mocha and iced grande latte?" Yeah. "The lady in front of you says thank you, and she payed for your drinks!"
Cool. I totally didn't want to break my ten either. I hate when boyfriend is right.
Sometimes. Maybe honey really is sweeter.