Truth be told:
I am a reformed addict.
After years and years of turning my nose at it, 2 years ago I succumbed to the allure of the latte.
Give me a cinnamon latte, a maple latte, pumpkin latte, vanilla latte, or, best of all, a plain old tall Starbucks latte.
Yeah, I said it, “Starbucks”.
In Vancouver my Starbucks latte hang-up was so bad that I convinced friends to chastise me whenever they saw a cup in my hot little hands.
The depth of my addiction was fully realized when I moved to the place where there was no Starbucks.
Frantically, I checked my handy Starbucks de-locator to make sure I hadn’t made a terrible, terrible mistake in moving to Prince Rupert. It’s a “de-locator” because in my heart of hearts I’m still an anti-corporate radical.
Nope, no Starbucks here.
But that is all about to change.
The local Safeway is draped in plastic sheets and scaffolding and a small handful of Prince Rupertites are learning the difference between a wet and a dry cappuccino.
Rumour has it that my next latte is just two weeks away. Rumour has it that a Coles Books is following hot on Starbucks tracks.
Dear Reader, it’s been 6 months of successfully shaking my Starbucks addiction. I’ve come to love my little stove-top espresso maker and my sort of local beans (JJ Bean).
And the absence of major corporate chains has been nothing but good for this city-girl with utopian inclinations.
But dollars to donuts, I’ll be in the line-up with every one else 2 weeks from now. And I guarantee I’ll love every sip of my holiday-flavoured tall Starbucks latte.
