The sun was setting in the London skyline. I made my way through the crowds of people, people I never knew, people I'd never see again, people who were as insignificant a detail in my life as I would be in theirs. The idea was instantly extrapolated in my mind to the grandiosity of the universe. How insignificant our planet was in comparison, how minuscule I was on the surface of the planet. The thought tired me, parched me. So I popped into the nearest Starbucks.
The usual fare was on offer. Mass produced drip coffee and blended ice designed to appeal to the masses. To be consumed, in more than one sense of the word. Various patrons were tapping away on MacBooks, slurping on their syrup infused drinks, probably working on that next big screenplay, the best selling novel. My eye was drawn to a new section of the menu, the Starbucks Reserve, special coffees originating from far away corners of the world. Perhaps they would make me feel one with my habitat. Perhaps the farmers who grew these beans felt as isolated as I did. I chose the Hondura Premier, which offered tones of toffee and honey to provide a bittersweet cup to match my mood. I also got a Caramel Creme Frappucino with whippy cream.
With the frap delivered to my partner and daughter, I returned to the serving counter. My coffee was being prepared specially, the barista pouring small portions of water onto the beans, the infused result falling drop by drop into the cup. The process took over five minutes, much longer than the masses would be prepared to wait for their coffees. The increased waiting time gave me more opportunity to question ny mortality, my place in the grand scheme of things. To check my Facebook and get up to date with my Words With Friends games.
Finally the coffee was prepared. I sat down and took a sip. I could not identify the sweet tones, all that ran along my tongue, down my throat, was a bitter, yet smooth, dark liquid. I stared into the remaining coffee in the cup, its blackness seemed to reflect my very soul. Then my daughter passed me an iPhone so I could help her play Super Monkey Ball. I love that game.
Sure, it's not a bad cup of coffee, it's pretty smooth, but in the end, to me anyway, it just tasted like any other regular coffee. So if you want to wait around for a pretty standard cup, feel free to try this one, otherwise just stick with the caramel lattes. I know I will.
My rating: 1/5
The usual fare was on offer. Mass produced drip coffee and blended ice designed to appeal to the masses. To be consumed, in more than one sense of the word. Various patrons were tapping away on MacBooks, slurping on their syrup infused drinks, probably working on that next big screenplay, the best selling novel. My eye was drawn to a new section of the menu, the Starbucks Reserve, special coffees originating from far away corners of the world. Perhaps they would make me feel one with my habitat. Perhaps the farmers who grew these beans felt as isolated as I did. I chose the Hondura Premier, which offered tones of toffee and honey to provide a bittersweet cup to match my mood. I also got a Caramel Creme Frappucino with whippy cream.
With the frap delivered to my partner and daughter, I returned to the serving counter. My coffee was being prepared specially, the barista pouring small portions of water onto the beans, the infused result falling drop by drop into the cup. The process took over five minutes, much longer than the masses would be prepared to wait for their coffees. The increased waiting time gave me more opportunity to question ny mortality, my place in the grand scheme of things. To check my Facebook and get up to date with my Words With Friends games.
Finally the coffee was prepared. I sat down and took a sip. I could not identify the sweet tones, all that ran along my tongue, down my throat, was a bitter, yet smooth, dark liquid. I stared into the remaining coffee in the cup, its blackness seemed to reflect my very soul. Then my daughter passed me an iPhone so I could help her play Super Monkey Ball. I love that game.
Sure, it's not a bad cup of coffee, it's pretty smooth, but in the end, to me anyway, it just tasted like any other regular coffee. So if you want to wait around for a pretty standard cup, feel free to try this one, otherwise just stick with the caramel lattes. I know I will.
My rating: 1/5
Caffeine. Wouldn't that be a great play for Words With Friends. As a sometimes blogger myself, Words With Friends seems a more appropriate time-waster than, say, television. Bottom line, my blog has more word game posts than thoughtful entries. Distracted by WWF and TV. I will always justify my TV time as long as I can tie it back to wordplay. Blame my love of Scrabble, WWF and TV trivia for spawning my blog and the anagrams I invent therein. Still, all these distractions keep me from blogging like you do.
ReplyDeleteLeona