My Slow-Roasted Addiction

It started simply enough, one morning I decided it would be nice to grab a cup of coffee on the way to work. A new Starbucks opened a few blocks away (and as you would expect, it’s only a few additional blocks to an existing Starbucks). I never thought we’d need two … but I was wrong.

I stepped inside the cozy cafe and ordered my ‘grande drip with room’. I’m a simple guy as my order implies. I like my coffee plain and black. I only get it ‘with room’ so that it doesn’t spill in my car while I drive. Sometimes a cup that is too full with leave splatters all over my not so tidy Honda Civic.

This one trip went so smoothly. The next day I decided to get another cup, this time the barista remembered me … it’s a subtle trick they use to make you feel at home, to feel welcomed, to lure you into returning each and every day thereafter. It works.

Before I knew it, my cube at work started to fill up with the coffee cup sleeves. I decided to keep each one as a reminder of my Starbucks experience. A tribute to my coffee addiction.

The pile is much larger today than this pile would suggest. This picture is probably a month or so old … I’ve since built a coffee sleeve pyramid. My addiction is not pretty, but it is bold and slow-roasted.