Dreary grey smothers the sky, clouding campus with slouched over students carrying book bags much too large for them. I clutch onto my wool coat, zipping it up to my chin as random raindrops fall from an unknown source. Warm in my palm is my Starbucks drink, fitting perfectly in the space between my pointer finger and thumb. I raise it to my lips and sip the sweet warmth.
It’s usually a chai, but sometimes it’s a vanilla latte (I hate myself right now) and it’s more than just a caffeine fix—though that never hurts. And I know that there are plenty of other coffee shops in the area with higher quality coffee, not to mention ones owned by small business owners, unlike the ultra consumerist Starbucks chain. However, none of them can offer me what Starbucks can: consistency, familiarity, and accessibility. Honestly, just the sight of my name misspelled in black sharpie is comforting (Stephanie, Steve, Stefanee…it’s Stefanie***!). And in a time of my life with so much uncertainty, sometimes all I want is a constant.
I often begin my day with a visit to Starbucks. Before lecture or my internship, I pop into its crowded shop and ask for what the day orders. If it’s a busy day, I’ll be sure to get something with a lot of caffeine. And if it’s a hangover, it’s green tea always. Its wide array of choices offer me a drink suitable for every context.
The other day my friend, Sarah Massarelli (a chai fanatic), grabbed a Starbucks because she was facing PTSD from her previous night spent in the ER getting stitches in her left eyebrow—she was involved in a mosh pit gone wrong at a Flosstradamus concert—I mean the girl clearly had a wild night and deserved a chai to soothe the soul.
Just the act of turning to a Starbucks for a source of comfort gives us a glimpse into its crazy success. Starbucks has managed to transform its coffee chain into a place of solace, a coffee shop in which we seek refuge in the midst of our chaotic lives. While its coffee isn’t the highest end in the market, and its prices aren’t the most affordable, its brand has become the mainstream of coffee. And it’s so accessible, no matter where I am in Boston there seems to be a Starbucks located within walking distance. It has monopolized the coffee industry, and American urbanites (aside from pretentious coffee drinkers in Seattle) are hooked on it like a drug—for reasons deeper than a caffeine fixation.
This addiction has caused my wallet to despise me more than I despise myself (thank god for gold status) and an intervention may be needed soon. Though as I look around, I see a plethora of others with the same red holiday cup resting in their palms—its familiar warmth scooping us out of our humdrum lives, giving us a moment to breathe.
