C is for overpriced COFFEE
Everywhere you turn there is Starbucks sticking out like a sore thumb in the corner. It’s practically littered across the whole Metro. It gets me thinking that this city might run through coffee. No, not just any coffee, but HELLUVA coffee. I mean, what’s in that coffee to make people to keep buying it with those over the top prices, it would be cheaper to buy your own coffee farm and brew your own coffee.
There is something that draws you in there that will lead you to your own demise. One minute you’re drinking coffee then the next thing you know you’re collecting stickers for a planner you would never use. It’s the sense of accomplishment you share with hundreds of people who is too buzzed from caffeine to think rationally that’s keeps them binge drinking. Every year I see the smug look on my brother’s face when he’s holding a Starbucks planner every Christmas. His eyes twitching, he has spastic hands, and dancing on his boxers. Ha!
I had this itch for the longest time way back when I was still in the city that I just need to scratch, scrape, and burn. I was so intrigued to know what is so damn special about that coffee shop. I mean there’s got to be a secret pole dancer there, right? How else are they charming customers with those steep prices? There has to be a catch. So I talk myself into going there all ALONE, of course I need to look like a hipster. So I “borrowed” my brother’s good clothes… and shoes to look the part. I contemplated to borrow his boxers but that’s just wrong.
So this is what happened that faithful cloudy afternoon. With the influence of boredom, 200 peso loose change ($4.50) and an uncontrollable itch.
Miss Barista: (waiting)
Me: I’ll have those iced coffee with the frappe on top. The one with caramel
Miss Barista: do you mean caramel frappucino?
Me: Oh yeah, that one
Miss Barista: what size will that be?
Me: largest ( I really don’t know what those sizes are, and I can’t read it clearly because I’m nearsighted)
Miss Barista: Name sir?
(Giving my real name to a complete stranger was a bit awkward, and besides my brother’s cups always has a fake name on it)
Miss Barista: that would be…
I didn’t let her finish and just gave her the 200 pesos ($4.50) loose change and said keep the change, I think there were lots of coins in there. But I didn’t look back and waited on the side, when my pseudo name was called I grab the drink and dash out of site.
The guard was giving me odd looks, maybe he was thinking I didn’t pay for my drink and was about to shoot me. Or maybe I looked guilty for doing a crime, which I could’ve. Maybe not knowing t the name of their drinks is illegal. Well how dare he judge me, I was wearing hipster clothes and shoes to match! (lol)
I was so out of it that I just drank my coffee outside. And it was raining HARD. Who the hell drinks cold beverage in a rainy day and sits outside? Apparently lots of people. There were several vacant seats inside, away from the pouring rain but some people sat outside. Maybe they’re showing off drinking expensive coffee? Or it must be a sign of protest for the indecency of their coffee’s price.
After I finished the drink and the rain subsided, I went home and didn’t speak a word of it. What the most depressing thing is, I didn’t find a pole dancer not even a pole. And those prices are absurd 150 plus pesos ($3.50) for a venti? What does venti even mean?
It’s really crazy burning a hole in your pocket for something like that. But I think, once in a while we have to treat ourselves with a little bit of luxury and just give into the lull of the coffee siren. And feel special even for a while. Even it be the price of our sanity