Starbucks

I arrived at a sad point in my life. This morning I unthinkingly grabbed the Nescafe jar and prepared myself my morning coffee. And realized a lifestyle upgrade was called for. Mismatched food, paper dry skin, or bedbugs are all doable. But no longer objecting to instant coffee is off limits.  

Unfortunately, a more decent cuppa in Chile inevitably means Starbucks. It's no Italy here after all. Well, as we say back home: you've got to row with the oars you've got. At least I knew to expect airconditioning, overpricing, and impeccable service. Wrong! The girl responsible for preparing my iced latte must have woken up with a look of unpenetrable contempt. Throwing snearing stares over the rims of her purple glasses, while taking a full five minutes to prepare a single beverage. Taking a deep breath in brought me no calmth however. The smell of aftershaves and perfumes brought back long lost memories of commuting and deadlines. And oddly also feelings of nostalgia bubbled up. Quickly I returned my attention to Ms. PMS. Where my fears of her work speed and ethics turned out to be without ground. The girl at the cash register was so friendly and talkative, she fully absorbed all production bottlenecks. And the latte perfectly conformed to international Starbucks standards. So I took overpricing for granted, and exited with a smile to the sunny streets of Santiago.  

P.S. And rest assured that I'm counting the days until I can lay my hands on some freshly roasted coffee beans and an Italian coffee maker!