The NYC Starbucks Sitcom

Up until about a year ago, I have to admit I swore off Starbucks for a lot of reasons: the long lines, the prices, non-fair trade, etc etc.  But then my sister got a job at the corporate HQ and I re-thought my blockade.  Factor in, too, the happiness I receive from coffee and now since I'm post baby nursing, I can dance happily and daily in a caffeine induced euphoria. And just like any drug addict, I need more and more to get that high. So naturally I went to Starbucks.  I used to refer to their coffee as Jet Fuel and I meant it in a slightly derogatory sense, but now I say Jet Fuel with delight. It's the only coffee that really ups my typing WPM and my ambition and giddy sense of aspirations of success. Yes. All in a cup of Grande Pike for $2.40 ($2.18 outside the city.) So in order to keep my job and possibly elevate to new levels of middle management, Starbucks has become an integral part of my career now.  The theory of this crutch is staggering but I wistfully pay it no mind, for in my happy bubble, I am invincible. Budgets and strategies are crushed! Spreadsheets are putty in my hands. Reports - bam!  Meetings - ya vole! Well, that's until lunch. Then productivity drops in direct proportion to hours since first sip (equation: P=T/S).  Anyhow, I thought I might start a regular posting of just what it takes to achieve said drug. Sure, NYC has a Starbucks on every corner, but you think you can just walk in, get a coffee and walk out?? Pftt. Silly non-New Yorker.  No, with my coffee usually comes a story of some kind and really, why keep that to myself? I am typing 155 wpm right now so I can share.   

This morning it's raining.  I have 2 choices of SBX locations to hit on the way to my office.  I can get off at the front of the train and hit the 42nd /6th ave spot, or get off the train at the back (which is where I board and frankly more convenient in my sloth-like, pre-caffeine subway bubble) at 40th / 6th and walk 2 blocks to the Madison Ave. location.  Now, not only do we New Yorkers have to consider the actual geographic location of a SBX we have to recognize the regulars, or the type of New Yorkers each location will attract.  You can imagine a SBX in the East Village will be different than these Mid-town locations, right? East Village hipsters stroll in, order basic bolds and Pikes, and usually tote a laptop or iPad etc.  They sit and discuss.  Midtown locations attract the suit.  Mr. Important Briefcase Man.  He is very busy.  He gets basic coffees too but is gone in a flash.  He usually gets a call while standing in line.  The McKenzie account is in jeopardy. Also, you get the lady suits.  Some really nice sophisticates but mostly, mousey oversize trenchcoats with sneakers. Ugh. They order some pretty serious drinks. Tall iced skinny vanilla soy latte decaf - with a straw.  The other thing to consider is that neither of these locations is very big. So often, if I'm running late, I go to the 42nd street spot because somehow it's not as busy. But Madison Ave, whoa.  Like, this morning, it's raining. I stood OUTSIDE the door, in a line to get IN to the Starbucks. Then once you get IN the door, you have to follow proper protocol and follow the person ahead of you closely, but not too close as to be weird, but enough so that when the line snakes around and wraps around on itself, it still remains clear to any NEW coffee hopeful, that yes, you indeed are ahead of them and therefore 2.5 minutes closer to coffee nirvana.  So there I am, marching in slow motion with all the military precision of the 3rd Reich, when Mr. Important Briefcase Man shoulder checks me on his way out.  He's on the McKenzie call.  Has his Grande Bold and is very important and unable to see us non-coffee peons and his corporate girth is too wide for the space between me and the door, so he takes me out.  Nice.  I, am too, quite important as I'm busy texting, so I merely say "Excuse You" and go back to my carefully considerate line holding texting and nonchalant Midtown way.   I also must note that my nonchalance can be attributed to an event prior to the Starbucks approach. I had stopped for a toasted english muffin at the deli first since it's on the way.  I got to the register and tried to read the black ink written on the paper wrapper. I know this is cheap, but why do I see 4 numbers? I look closer and see (smile) that Mr. Nice Deli Man had drawn a heart and then $1.10.  So I am now in a caffeine bubble encased in fluffy clouds.  Would be cooler if the Mr. Nice Deli Man was, oh, about 40, Latin and capable of singing just like Mike Reno from Loverboy and also was Admiral of the Pacific Fleet but no.... He may be 50 and from Uzbekistan. Still fun - husband should only be slightly nervous. Wink.  Regardless, I'll take it.  With my Grande Pike, to the office for a great Friday. 

You can see my devotion as evidenced below by my collection of cups - both pre- and post new logo.