Liquid crack
My post-lunch headache tells me it's time for caffeine. Since I'd sooner lick road tar than drink a cup of the swill they make here, I make my way to the closest Starbucks. Today's featured regular brew is a medium-bodied regular breakfast blend, and I ask for a Grande with room for cream. Ah, sweet cream. The cool half-and-half swirls its way to the bottom and back up again, turning my cup of blackness a pleasing tan color.
The first sip tastes like motor oil, but I'm determined to get my fix off this. I sip again. Slightly nuttier, less acidic. Again. Creamy and soothing. This isn't so bad after all. I wonder if the next sip will be even better... perfect. Just a few more steps and I'll be back to my desk. I need another hit. If the last one was perfect, this one can only be better. I'm smelling Christmas cookies; seeing snow flakes against decorated evergreens... this is some powerful stuff! Maybe I should've gotten a Venti. And now I know why Starburnts, Charbucks, bitter-over-roasted-nickname-of-your-choice can stay in business... as long as their supply of cream doesn't run out.
Get your own. You'll see.
The first sip tastes like motor oil, but I'm determined to get my fix off this. I sip again. Slightly nuttier, less acidic. Again. Creamy and soothing. This isn't so bad after all. I wonder if the next sip will be even better... perfect. Just a few more steps and I'll be back to my desk. I need another hit. If the last one was perfect, this one can only be better. I'm smelling Christmas cookies; seeing snow flakes against decorated evergreens... this is some powerful stuff! Maybe I should've gotten a Venti. And now I know why Starburnts, Charbucks, bitter-over-roasted-nickname-of-your-choice can stay in business... as long as their supply of cream doesn't run out.
Get your own. You'll see.