It’s Not Me … It’s Your Overpriced Drinks

Dear Starbucks,

Wow. I’m not even sure how to say this so I’m just going to dive right in (like pulling off a Band-Aid, right? Quick and painful is the way to do it, none of that slow-peeling agony for us).

We need to take a break. You probably already saw this coming, I’ve been distant lately, my enthusiasm waning. We’ve had a good run but, as the saying goes, “All good things must come to an end once I can no longer afford them.”

It’s not that I don’t still love you, we both know I do.

I love that you know my name and order off by heart and how surprised you are whenever I switch it up a bit. I love that you think my X-Men Coffee Mug is cool even though I’m not a 12 year old boy. I love our superficial small talk and those slower mornings when the cute male barista decorates my latte with foam leaf that I’m too awkward to thank him for. I won’t pretend that I’m not going to miss you, that would only cheapen the times we’ve had. (I’m going to miss you so freaking much.)

We’ve had some good times, me giving you all my money, you giving me a larger waistline. My store bought chai mix and homemade breakfast sandwiches just won’t be the same. Healthy never tastes as good.

One day I hope you’ll understand and we can meet again as friends. I’ll order a Grande Rooibos Tea Latte, you’ll convince me to buy an Oat Bar (or 7) and it’ll be a pleasant experience, filled with nostalgic longing. For now I promise to smile fondly when I walk past your doors, resisting the urge to go in only because I’ll have deliberately left my bankcard at home.

Goodbye, old friend.
I will always love you.

SMRP.

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2 thoughts on “It’s Not Me … It’s Your Overpriced Drinks

  1. Pingback: Filtered Fanatic | triSARAHtops

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