Today instead of the Assam tea I'm growing to love for its tea-ish-ness, my husband made a pot of green tea. Nutty, delicious, satisfying, but lacking a certain, you know, kick. So, I went to Starbucks. And since I'd been up since about 2 AM (a dream about an article on the kindergarten crisis in New York City woke me up), I thought I just might go for a soy chi latte. Why not start the day with a candy bar, right?
One, the line. It was long, and while they moved it along, I still waited for regulars to be served who were nonetheless behind me in line. I may not go to Starbucks every day, but a line is a line.
Two, the sizing. I thought I'd go all Starbuck-y and instead of saying "small" I'd say "Grande." Only "Grande" is medium in Starbuck-ese. Everyone knows that, except me, I forgot.
Three, the cost. That damn Grande was almost five dollars! I didn't even want to look at the calorie count.
I was so annoyed I couldn't even fully enjoy my candy-bar of a drink, and so I did a very Skinny-ish thing. About half way through, I just dropped it in a garbage can. If I couldn't enjoy it, why drink it? Next time I have to be in a Starbucks, it's a small mint tea for me.