A week or so ago CK and I were hanging out at my mom's when we had the bright idea to press my sis into an hour of babysitting service and run away for a mini-date. What did we do with this brief furlough into freedom!!! time?
We drove to Borders and sat in their cafe, a pseudo-Seattle's Best Coffee. It ain't Barnes and Noble, and it ain't Starbucks (although Proud Geek says it may soon be), but, hey, beggars can't be choosers. Especially a haggard, starving for adult conversation, unromanced, feeling unwanted me.
With very low expectations, we ordered our drinks, sat down, and began establishing ground rules for our quickie romantic tryst. Rule number one, no small talk. Rule number two, no family business, parenting business, money business, etc. Only real, quality conversation allowed. Rule number thr -- HOLY SHIT, your drink is good!!!!
He'd ordered the coffee milkshake, despite being a coffeephobe. And he was actually satisfied. Which is more than I can say ever having seen him inside a Starbucks.
My honey cinnamon latte was just amazing. All the sweetness of a cinnamon dolce latte or a caramel macchiato, but not the heaviness, or burnt bitterness Starbucks' coffee can sometimes have. I didn't see the chocolate and peanut butter frap Proud Geek raved over, but whatever.
And we sat there, our mini-date completely derailed. Instead of gazing into each other's eyes and exchanging meaningful intellectual thoughts, we gaped at our cups. It was especially bad for me -- I began to feel as if I should run to the bathroom, wet some toilet paper and begin the most strenuous round of self-flagellation.
How dare I actually begin to think it? No, no, it can't be... I can't like this place that much. I am not a sinner!
But then a couple days ago, Leah and I were at home with nothing to do. And suddenly a vision of that honey cinnamon latte popped into my head. "Wanna go to the bookstore," I asked Leah in cued English. I knew I could get her to come. Not only is she a nascent bibliophile in her own right, she's also a Starbucks-addict. This is something I always keep in mind when I wonder whether I'm raising her right.
*gasp* "Yay!!! The library," she signed back.
"No, hon, the bookstore."
"The library store?"
"No. The book...store."
"Ohhhh... Okay. Book-store-library, YAY!"
So we went, and spent the most godawful torturous half hour in the children's section, eyeshot away from the new releases. Torture, I tell you. TORTURE! But we made it, and after she picked a book by P.D. Eastman, she announced the holy mantra I'd been waiting to hear, "Ready for hot chocolate!"
And then the gaping began anew. A kids' hot chocolate at Starbucks is a 6 ounce little thing of syrupy hot chocolate with whipped cream. The chocolate often collects at the bottom cup. All this can be yours for only $1.15!
But at SBC? A kids' Cocoa Trio is the same size as the adult small, 12 ounces, and garnished with a very healthy helping of whipped cream, white chocolate shavings, dark chocolate drizzle, and a generous stick of milk chocolate poked in. For $1.55, definitely worth the saucer eyes on my spawn, plus the snarfing chocolate down too fast for me to capture it on camera.
So... dare I say it? Yes, I think I do. I used to think this was a transgression of the most serious kind... but I do believe I have been converted. I am no longer a Starbucks drone. Hallelujah!
We drove to Borders and sat in their cafe, a pseudo-Seattle's Best Coffee. It ain't Barnes and Noble, and it ain't Starbucks (although Proud Geek says it may soon be), but, hey, beggars can't be choosers. Especially a haggard, starving for adult conversation, unromanced, feeling unwanted me.
With very low expectations, we ordered our drinks, sat down, and began establishing ground rules for our quickie romantic tryst. Rule number one, no small talk. Rule number two, no family business, parenting business, money business, etc. Only real, quality conversation allowed. Rule number thr -- HOLY SHIT, your drink is good!!!!
He'd ordered the coffee milkshake, despite being a coffeephobe. And he was actually satisfied. Which is more than I can say ever having seen him inside a Starbucks.
My honey cinnamon latte was just amazing. All the sweetness of a cinnamon dolce latte or a caramel macchiato, but not the heaviness, or burnt bitterness Starbucks' coffee can sometimes have. I didn't see the chocolate and peanut butter frap Proud Geek raved over, but whatever.
And we sat there, our mini-date completely derailed. Instead of gazing into each other's eyes and exchanging meaningful intellectual thoughts, we gaped at our cups. It was especially bad for me -- I began to feel as if I should run to the bathroom, wet some toilet paper and begin the most strenuous round of self-flagellation.
How dare I actually begin to think it? No, no, it can't be... I can't like this place that much. I am not a sinner!
But then a couple days ago, Leah and I were at home with nothing to do. And suddenly a vision of that honey cinnamon latte popped into my head. "Wanna go to the bookstore," I asked Leah in cued English. I knew I could get her to come. Not only is she a nascent bibliophile in her own right, she's also a Starbucks-addict. This is something I always keep in mind when I wonder whether I'm raising her right.
*gasp* "Yay!!! The library," she signed back.
"No, hon, the bookstore."
"The library store?"
"No. The book...store."
"Ohhhh... Okay. Book-store-library, YAY!"
So we went, and spent the most godawful torturous half hour in the children's section, eyeshot away from the new releases. Torture, I tell you. TORTURE! But we made it, and after she picked a book by P.D. Eastman, she announced the holy mantra I'd been waiting to hear, "Ready for hot chocolate!"
And then the gaping began anew. A kids' hot chocolate at Starbucks is a 6 ounce little thing of syrupy hot chocolate with whipped cream. The chocolate often collects at the bottom cup. All this can be yours for only $1.15!
But at SBC? A kids' Cocoa Trio is the same size as the adult small, 12 ounces, and garnished with a very healthy helping of whipped cream, white chocolate shavings, dark chocolate drizzle, and a generous stick of milk chocolate poked in. For $1.55, definitely worth the saucer eyes on my spawn, plus the snarfing chocolate down too fast for me to capture it on camera.
So... dare I say it? Yes, I think I do. I used to think this was a transgression of the most serious kind... but I do believe I have been converted. I am no longer a Starbucks drone. Hallelujah!
LOL!!! Starbucks actually owns SBC, believe it or not. But I really do hope 'Bucks doesn't diddle with SBC's offerings. I think that the peanut butter frap isn't listed anymore, but I've asked for it specifically and they knew what I meant and made it for me anyway. Better grab that while knowledge and peanut butter jars last ...
Posted by: Josh | June 03, 2008 at 07:57 AM
Seattle's coffee is the BEST. I had it almost everyday when I was going to college in CA. :)
Posted by: SazzyBamm | June 03, 2008 at 08:09 AM
Heh... SBC is cool....but I'm a 'bou lover at heart. Been drinking Caribou "mixers" since 1996!
(Their kids' hot chocolate includes oreos...or at least, it used to...!)
Posted by: Hilary | June 03, 2008 at 09:40 AM