My baby’s got a secret

I have something pretty serious to get off my chest, which has been bothering me for some time. And whilst it isn't keeping me up at night (yet), it has begun lurking in the background, occasionally popping its head up to engulf me in a tidal wave of guilt. It is then, that I want to run and shout this confession from the rooftops. So I figure it's time to own up.

Now in publishing this statement, I realise that I risk becoming a social pariah, not to mention attracting derision and ridicule from certain quarters. But I'm afraid its purge now, or forever hold my peace.

I love Starbucks. Actually I love, LOVE Starbucks.

There, I said it. I will now pause while you mentally or audibly poor scorn on me, call me a sell-out, a commercial whore and maybe even delete me from Facebook.

Do do do…


Do do dooby do…..

All done?

Good. Now if you could just let me explain.

I love Starbucks - ohmigod that feels good - because it is a thread that is intricately woven throughout my cherished travel experiences. Minus a few obvious exceptions (although I wonder how high the Kenyan Masai could jump after a venti triple shot?) I have a matching Starbucks memory for almost every stamp in my passport.

I remember escaping the winter cold of London inside Starbucks during many a shopping jaunt to Oxford Street. Taking a sightseeing break at Starbucks in downtown Madrid and eyeing off the dark-eyed boy working the milk steamer. In Lima, Peru, my travel companion and I stumbled across Starbucks on a sweltering hot day and revelled in the icy goodness of a coffee frapp.

Downtown Vancouver boasted a Starbucks on almost every corner, and I spent many cosy Sunday's reading and sipping delicious spiced apple cider, trying to forget my homesickness. In March, I sat in Times Square for hours watching Manhattan buzz by from a Starbucks window and in northern Thailand during May, I practically fell to my knees when the familiar green circle came into view, and I tasted my first real coffee in weeks.

It's not even the world’s greatest blend, you say. I know! But oh the choices! The hit, the sugar, the buzz and even the music! For those who do not deign to enter Starbucks, they often play old-crooner compilations like Frank, Dean and friends - which just adds to the romance. You can be miles away from home in a completely new world, but Starbucks is at once familiar. A beacon of reliability in a world of uncertainty.

Ok that was too far. And certainly by admitting that I've allowed myself to be wooed by Starbucks doesn’t mean that I condone some of the methods their boardroom Dr Evils have used to semi take over the universe. Yes, damn them and their dirty tactics! The lack of social conscience Starbucks as a corporation have shown at times has been quite despicable. There's no denying it.

But for me, walking into Starbucks is like getting a hug from an old friend.

So not all of my friends are going to like each other, I concede that. But how can I fight it? When I sit here at my desk on a random, uninspiring Friday morning and one sip from my grande skim iced-vanilla latte sends me spiralling suddenly into a precious treasure chest of memories?

Today Times Square… tomorrow who knows?