Starbucks and I are best buds. The baristas still don't know my name, but I'm confident that they will. Someday. Until then (and surely after), I'm blogging about my Starbs mornings. Yes, this will likely be a weekly post. Get excited.
Today I’m testing Casi Cielo—it sounds classy; “Pike Place,” the daily brew, does not. If I spot a new flavor scrawled in chalk over the coffee machines, I ask the barista to describe it. I nod, periodically turning down the corners of my mouth or raising an understanding eyebrow. So, what you’re saying is, this aromatic delicacy pleases your palette with flower and tree bark flavor sensations? I exude coffee-snob wisdom. Before tasting today’s choice flavor, I check the Starbucks website for the official blurb. Casi Cielo is “elegant.” The savory description reads like a Machiavellian persuasion; I’m sold. I steal a dainty sip and wonder where the “lemony flourish” is because I’m sensing more a “flourish of tar.”
I don’t even really like coffee—I pay $1.73 for the Starbucks feel. The clashing streams of chit-chat, up-and-coming musical genius, and collisions behind the counter meld together beautifully. Like chirpy birds and construction cranes, twittering and thundering before daybreak. Scents of over-baked muffins and fresh coffee shift ever-so subtly. Sunlight streams in and I sigh out my wish to stay forever. Apparently the ambiance makes me feel poetic. I always leave Starbucks happy. Light. Carefree. Like all is right. Like I should be skipping, frolicking. Or admiring a whisper-soft dandelion. I’m no longer a tired college student, but a hippie-child ready to embrace the pretty people around her.
Sly drug, that caffeine.
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I, of course, like this... however... school work? get to it.
ReplyDeletealthough, it's probably ok considering the fact that I know you NEED to do this in order to get to your school stuff. So, never mind, as you were.
this is one of my favorites :)
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