A Good Night to Visit Starbucks

Tonight's dinner was especially filling, so to offset the eye-drooping effects of digestion, I packed up my iBook and headed to Starbucks to work. I needed to write a new DVD Verdict review for the release of Sam & Max: Freelance Police, and I couldn't afford to fall asleep at the keyboard. Apparently, as I was told later by a barista, I picked a good night to go to Starbucks.

When it comes to Starbucks versus local coffee shops, I have no qualms splitting my attention; I like both places, and usually prefer the local places. The thing is, those local shops close early (at least the ones conveniently near my house), so I'm left with nary a choice but the Seattle behemoth. Lately, as you may have read, Starbucks is working on their image; they're revamping the way the store disperses coffee and espresso and actually training baristas, rather than settling for minimum wage coffee jockeys. As part of this effort, or so I was told, is an attempt to help educate customers on coffee. Tonight was one of those nights.

I walked in to Starbucks and saw almost two dozen people sitting in a circle talking; I wondered if I had stumbled on to some AA meeting or something. Then I noticed that the person lecturing them was the store's manager, who also happened to be handing up cups of espresso. I didn't know what kind of strange cult-like rituals they were up to, so I kept my eye on the prize. I got a medium (sorry, grande) cut of Espresso Roast coffee and grabbed a table.

I was just getting in to the meat of the review (and wondering how to properly spell lagomorph) when a barista hopped over. "Would you like to try a cappuccino?" I looked up at her and saw that she was thrusting a small (sorry, tall) cup of froth at me. "Sure," I replied, looking over at my coffee and realizing it was still too hot to enjoy.

Okay, so a free cappuccino, not something I would normally order but I'll take it. There's something about the aftertaste of cappuccino (maybe it's the frothed milk) that I just can't seem to get behind. This one is better than usual, but perhaps that's because it was free.

Pretty soon I'm half-way done with the cappuccino and the barista returns, this time with a smaller cup with whipped cream poking out the top. "Want to try a cafe mocha?" she asks. "Uh... yes. Yes I do." I probably sounded like I had never had one before, it was my natural instinct that had kicked in when an offer to try something I always have presented itself. I now had three cups of coffee at a table that could barely hold my 12inch iBook to begin with; I must have looked ridiculous.

I sat there and worked my way through the cappuccino first; I contemplated dropping the mocha into the cappuccino like some sort of coffee "car bomb," but then I was afraid of ruining everything. After finishing the cappuccino, I moved on the mocha and downed it in a few brief swigs; I knew I needed to get to the coffee I paid for before it became too late. I moved on to the grande Espresso Roast and its temperate was just right. By this time it was after eight and I had already essentially had one and a half cups of coffee caffeine-wise. I've sort of built up a tolerance for that much caffeine, but still, it felt excessive.

I finished up my review with the quickness of a doped bicyclist and got out of there. While I was working furiously, another barista actually came over and offered me a honey cafe latte. I declined, but only because it had honey in it... and I find that gross.

Posted by MikeRubino at March 13, 2008 9:57 PM | TrackBack