Archive for June 10th, 2008

I live on an island. But I can drive over a bridge to “the mainland”. Still, they call this an island. One way on and one way off unless you come by boat or inside the belly of a whale.

We’ve got what we need up here, yet the mall is about 25 minutes away (across the bridge). We have boutiques. Lots of bars. Plenty of restaurants. There are summer people. There are transplants. Way too many Dunkin’ Donuts (I count 6 off the top of my head but that doesn’t include the one inside the grocery store). There are fishermen, drunks, hippies, artists, yuppies, writers, builders, machinists and people who just make up things to do (otherwise known as “trust funders”)

There’s a great coffee shop in town, it is the only one I frequent because they make a damn good chai latte and have some lemon ginger tea to die for.

But their coffee ain’t so good.

It’s a brand I have never heard of before moving to this town just a few years ago and I just plain don’t like how it tastes. (I will also mention that I recently had a very profitable art showing there, gracing their walls with my work for the month of May, so I will continue to state the positives). It’s cozy and when feeling lonely, I know I can go there and find someone I know. If not, I will at least find someone interesting to look at. (island living)

But what we are lacking is the good old standard Starbucks.

I love me a Grande Latte. A Cinnamon Dolce. A Caramel Macchiato. From Starbucks. You know, that mesmerizing experience of walking in the doors and smelling it and seeing the couches and the hot mugs with cute pictures on them, $700 espresso machines for sale on the gift shelves and the music kiosk.

I love me a Starbucks.

When I was first married, I worked in downtown Boston. There was a Starbucks on every corner. If meeting a friend there for a cappy, we’d need to be very specific about which one because it was likely we’d end up standing separately waiting for each other in two different Starbucks, merely two blocks from one another.

I must have spent $50 a week on Grande lattes. Because sometimes it was two a day. Sometimes it turned into a Venti. Especially if there was some beautiful person sitting in one of the big comfortable couches. (I have never been picked up in a Starbucks but have heard of people going, just to scope out the “meat”.

The nearest Starbucks to our island is 20 miles away, across the bridge. Some days I venture down there, 40 miles round trip, just for a grande latte. Sometimes, going south to pick up my kids from their dad’s house, I swerve off at the exit to grab me some Starbucks.

Interestingly, I notice a difference between all the Starbucks shops I have been to. In Boston, everyone is either a bike messenger or a suit. In NYC, you just have an ecclectic mix, depending on the neighborhood. In Los Angeles, I was visiting my dad and we went to Starbucks in our town and I spotted many nannies, three celebrities and the rest were very very beautiful people. In a suburb of Boston where I lived once, they were all hippies, some who never shaved their armpits, men wearing Jesus sandals. In the next suburb I moved to, I found Stepford wives (like me at the time). And recently, when I flew out of Boston on a trip, I was amazed that I stood in line for forty five minutes for a coffee at the Starbucks counter, among the rest of the travelers who couldn’t believe their luck at finding a Starbucks in an airport!

So, in conclusion, I love me a Starbucks.

Please please please, open a Starbucks near me. Just a little closer. Because what I will do for a Starbucks is pay $4.00 a gallon for gas and drive 40 miles round trip to get one.

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