I need coffee sometimes. Not want but need. Well my brain tells me I need even though I really had given up coffee for a few years prior to moving here. Funny how old habits can creep, right back, up on you without any warning. Without asking, “Hey am I welcome back in your life?” Forget about asking they sort of just tell you what their demands are for some reason. We then just comply, until some other system in the body starts screaming…”cut it out! I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again and again stop doing that. I’m warning you, I will make you jittery and edgy!”
The passive aggressive body parts rely on rich, advertising companies to get their message across. For instance the cigarette boxes hear in London have warnings the size of a shirt tag saying “SMOKING KILLS”. Another good example is a billboard ad that has a picture of a bare chested guy, probably in his 50’s with a skin tone coloured belt around his chest squeezing it like a tourniquet. Just writing about it just made me want to take a deeper breath. If you saw it, it would make your chest feel tight. Or at least it makes mine tight. I wonder if it makes people stop eating their artery clogging fish and chips? Another favorite of mine. Back to coffee…
I feel I’m doing myself a favor by not only getting out of the office to fulfill this habit but by not drinking the awful instant coffee that offices in England tend to serve. I’m at least drinking my daily does of caffeine with a “proper” cup of coffee rather than just any old coffee flavored caffeine fix.
I get to Starbucks and I order one of the fancy holiday coffees they have, Ginger Bread latte (which by the way isn’t as good as the Toasted Almond Latte) and proceed to ask for a small or a Tall as it’s spoken in Starbuck’s language. I’ve already committed to satisfying my fix and have already agreed a small is enough when I’m not supposed to be drinking a coffee to begin with. Starbuck’s Host I of course forgets what size I ordered, between asking me and then grabbing for the size cup he needs to make my yummy treat with. Starbucks Host II pipes up and says Grande, a.k.a., medium. I was like yeah that’s fine. I said to Starbuck’s Host II you just talked me into that you know. He smiled as if he’s going to make more money for that or something. He tells me he’s been working at Starbucks for five years and he does know how to sell anyone a cup-of-joe. I was impressed with his stealth marketing tactics and his ability to be so modest when confronted. They worked on me for sure. He’s from Bangladesh and seems to love his job at Starbucks. Good, as an agro host makes for a bad cup of coffee.
I asked him when my favorite holiday drink was going to be arriving- the Eggnog Latte. He said only in December. I said I’ll be away for three weeks in December. I’m going to Australia and he says you better drink as many as you can as they don’t have Starbucks in Oz. Unreal-maybe the southern hemisphere hasn’t been blessed with such franchises yet. They are the better for it, if that’s the case. This fact of course was given to me by SH II himself with another, I know more than you about Starbuck’s smile.
So I got my coffee and sat down in Starbuck’s for a few minutes to pretend I wasn’t really on a break from work but on a fancy European vacation and with nothing better to do my 24 hours today than enjoy a cup of fresh roasted coffee. I quickly snapped out of that when I realized I had to go back around the corner to finish making calls. Maybe I should invite SH II with me. Maybe he could make me some cash with his keen selling skills.
On the way home I passed by a group of school girls. They still wear uniforms here. They looked like little proper Mary Poppins with their Navy Skirts, shirts and matching berets- very cute. Even without the coffee I was reminded that I am certainly in a foreign place. I like that.
Dependent or not on caffeine it a reliable source that brightens my day. We all can’t rely on the sun for brightening in London.