A little virtue tastes good!

Once upon a time, Starbucks and I were going steady, hot and heavy. I dropped by at least three or four times a week, sometimes for a quick kiss of Shaken Tea-Lemonade on the run, but more often for a long leisurely two-hour snuggle with a Venti Farppucinio, or Mocha Latte. Long after the coffee had grown cold in the cup, I, ever the clinging girlfriend, was still lounging around, basking in the flattering commercial light and funky music of my beloved's pad.

Starbucks, is not the best coffee on earth. Overwrought, overroasted, overpriced, cheesy, corporate...I heard all the insults, but I didn't care. I was a woman in love, and like most doomed love it had little to do with the object of my affection. No, what I was in love with was the image of myself that got reflected back at me from those high polished glass windows. I was hip, cosmopolitan, a city girl. No home-brewed coffee in a chipped Snoopy mug like my mother back home in the sticks of Ocala, FL. No, I was a city girl, and city girls hang out in Starbucks sipping expensive lattes and reading Vanity Fair. We carry that familiar cream and green to-go cup, and swan around MAC looking for the perfect shade of coral lipstick.

Of course, I paid dearly for my obsession. To the wallet-emptying tune of $15 bucks a week. And soon the reflection from those tall glass windows was packing a few extra pounds around the hips. Some of those coffee drinks have as many or more calories than side trip to McDonald's. My love was biting me on my ever-widening ass. So, I broke up with Starbucks, all at once, cold turkey. Hit the road, jack, and take your smooth whipped cream and seductive ribbons of chocolate syrup with you.

That was a couple of years ago. Since then, my personality, my whole life has undergone a radical transformation. I'm still a city girl, but with an image of myself not quite so tied up in expensive trappings. Less Vanity Fair. Less vanity all together. I brew my coffee at the office and my mug is a lovely blue and yellow stripe. But, you can't avoid your exes forever. Ever since I found about the much underpublisized "short" size of latte at Starbucks, I have been cautiously re-visiting our relationship. My visits are few and far between, shorter and somewhat sweeter than before. Because now I'm not looking for Jaymi in Starbucks; I just came in for a cup of joe.