Tag Archives: Starbucks


Now that we’re engaged, I’m up against the title thing again. (See original problem here.) I never did fully sort out how to refer to R when we were, uh…is it ‘dating’ if you’ve been living together for five years? I did an extended trial run of “El Señor”, mostly while ordering at Starbucks, but R vetoed that as weird. Now that we’re engaged, that whole exercise, all that effort, is out the window.

Now it’s “fiancé”. But, of course, that’s not working for me either. It’s too…frilly. Fiancés are guys who belong to country clubs and think they’re hilarious rebels when they wear Tretorns with their seersucker suits. “Fiancé” is just too… Hell, I don’t know: it’s just not me. I’m from New England, for God’s sake.

So I’ve settled on “fancy” as my ironic compromise. R is my fancy. Which is true, really. I like it and I can live with it until the wedding. I have no problem with “husband”, for the record, so we should have smooth sailing from there on out. I might change my mind though when I get there. I’ll keep you posted.

One positive thing I have to say about Starbucks…


Neither of my local* Starbii ever did award me the Customer of the Week free drinkathon pass, so now I don’t go there anymore.** But in case you still do go there, if you make them heat up their morning buns, they are tasty.

There. That’s it.

Oh wait: they also give their employees health benefits. But that’s probably preventative care re: employee absences due to excessive morning bun consumption, so that cancels itself out.

Of course, if you really want a morning bun, you should just get on your bike and go over to Tartine (on the corner of 18th and Guerrero), stand in line for a 15 minutes with the yoga moms and writers and ne’er do well trust funders and get a proper morning bun that is made by hand that very morning, is still warm and has little bits of shaved orange in it.

I mean, if you really loved morning buns that’s what you’d do. If you just have a crush and no commitment, go on ahead and stick with Starbucks. Whatever. Doesn’t matter to me. I’m not upset. Really.

*By ‘local’ I mean the two within reaching radius of my apartment, not ‘local’ meaning…um…local. By that definition, we’d be talking about getting shunned by about 60 stores. It’s bad, but not that bad.

**Oh – and by ‘don’t go there’ I mean, not really, mostly, almost all the time…to write, I mean…not just for a drive-by coffee…I don’t even like their coffee, but yeah, I mean, sometimes, sure, I ‘go there’ if you want to take that in the strictest going there sense of the words, I mean, who doesn’t? Come on. You can’t not. They’re just there all the time, like that ex-boyfriend who’s kind of stalking you but is also sort of a nice guy and sometimes it’s just easier to hang out with him because he’s, like, right outside your door, than drag all the way across town to hang out with someone you like better. Who isn’t a stalker. Or whatever.