Friday, November 14, 2008

And they called it Puppy Love…

I have never been a fan of Starbucks. For one I love weak, watery coffee and theirs is just too strong. For another it seems ridiculous to me for anyone to order a venti, extra hot (extra hot?) two shot soy milk one raw sugar no whip bold…. You get the idea. I’m also cheap and a four dollar cup of coffee seems pretty steep to me. Ah, but I have gone to the dark side. I have been at Starbucks more in the last three weeks than in the last three years. My girlfriend is addicted to venti mocha lattes. It is her crack and she demands a fix every morning. Mind you I do not bring her one every morning, but the days I do her face lights up when I walk through the door carrying the steaming red cup.

At first this exercise was solely for her benefit. A cup of coffee and a slice of banana nut loaf. Then one morning I noticed the section of the menu that contains non-coffee drinks. Hmmm. Yes, I’ll try a grande strawberry and cream. Big mistake! I am now addicted as well but to an ass widening, calorie loaded, sugar infested milk shake. I can down a grande in five minutes flat on my way to work. This is amazing because I hate milk. It gives me the creeps. This however is heaven in a plastic cup.
This morning I swung by my local Starbucks on the way to take the dog to Carrie’s work. He goes to work on Fridays because otherwise he would eat our maid and the house would quickly become a pig sty. So there he was with his head hanging out of the back window watching me as I stood in line like a junky at a Methadone clinic. I remembered that a good friend of ours who is also addicted to high dollar coffee gets her dog a puppy latte. This is no more than whipped cream in a cup but the name is too cute not to use. So I ordered Isaac a puppy latte. When I got back to the car I set down our drinks, took the lid off his puppy latte and let Isaac go to town. If you have a dog and you’ve never tried this you must! I swear his eyes rolled back in his head and I could hear him humming. Whipped cream was all over his tiny muzzle hairs. He really got into it and the cream started flying. On his head, my car, everywhere. Yep, now our entire family is addicted.