The morning began like every other morning – well almost. My husband and I woke up at 6:00 a.m. hit the snooze alarm one too many times and dragged our tired bodies out of bed. This day was a little different because my husband and I car-pooled. That proved to be a difficult task as my husband is much too cheery in the morning and I am used to him being gone by the time I wake sparing me from the renditions of his take on the song of the day. After a long debate over his singing voice, we decided the only way we were going to survive the car ride together was with some much needed caffeine.

We pulled in to one of our favorite coffee shops to order our regular drinks. Much to our despair the owner informed us the Granada machine was broken. My husband and I looked at each other and decided we absolutely could not substitute we said thanks and drove off. We were left no other options besides a close by Starbucks.

Let me stop this story and say the following: my husband is a self proclaimed coffee concierge and has banned Starbucks. He thinks they are the epitome of all that is wrong with coffee today. Essentially he thinks they are the antichrist of coffee.

With both of us running late for work he decides just this once he can make an exception. I assure him I will order for him. I have come to love a particular drink called a Mocha Frappuccino Light and have mastered ordering the way I like it, whip cream, chocolate and caramel drizzle on top. (OK, I know the topping may defeat the light status a little but what can I say I'm hooked) anyway I digress.

As we walk into the coffee shop I happen to look back at my husband and I see this deer caught in the headlights look on his face. He leans into me and says; order me the same thing you get. Sure I say. When it's our turn I order my drink. My husband happens to be looking at the cash register at the time of the order and notices I was charged $.35 for the caramel drizzle. My husband in a very loud voice asks you paid $.35 for a squirt of caramel on your drink. Don't you think that's a little outrageous? I quietly answer no hoping that would be the end of it. Of course it isn't, he then turns to the clerk and asks her, $.35 for a squirt of caramel you have got to be kidding me. That is highway robbery. No wonder Starbucks owns everything he comments. I bristle a bit at the comment as I proceed to order his drink (leaving off the caramel drizzle.) I think we are in the clear but then I hear my husband's voice once again as he asks for his drink to be made with soy milk.

My heart drops, anyone who has ever had a Mocha Frappuccino light knows it is a pre-made mix and therefore knows it is not made with milk. My husband however never being to a Starbucks did not know this. I prepared for what I knew was coming next.

The barrister behind the counter explains to him it is a pre-made mix and is not made with milk. My husband looks at him and says I know please mix mine with soy milk. The barrister looks at him again bewildered and says, it is a pre-made mix and is not made with milk therefore cannot be made with soy milk. My husband looks at the barrister and says you mean to tell me I cannot get it made with soy milk?

I notice at this time there is a line beginning to form behind us and I start to fear this is going to be a long time before we get our coffee so I decide to jump in to help the barrister. I looked at my husband and tried to explain to him with the help of hand gestures: they have on one hand the pre-made mix and on the other hand the ice when you put them together and you get our drink. See no milk. My husband who is beyond exasperated at this point cannot understand why he cannot get soy milk in his Frappuccino, he angrily makes the point all other coffee shops in the world makes these coffee drinks with milk why can't they? I don’t have the heart to tell him that no other coffee shop actually sells Frappuccino’s.

Finally, my husband decides he no longer wants this drink if he cannot have it with soy milk. He now orders a Carmel Macchiato, blended with soy milk. The barrister tells him he can have it iced with soy milk but he cannot have it blended with soy. My husband looks at him incredulously and says what do you mean I cannot get it blended? He raises his voices and repeats I want a blended Carmel Macchiato with soy as if repeating the order to the barrister would ultimately change the outcome.

At this time the line behind us is out the door. I am starting to get embarrassed and wishing we didn't come here in the first place. I look back and forth apologetically between the barrister and my husband I feel for them both. They are like people from different countries who don't speak the same language but desperately need something the other has.

My husband repeats the same order, this time with hand gestures; I want a blended Carmel Macchiato with soy he shouts. The barrister once more (and I fear the final time before he throws us both out) says he can't blend it! My husband says fine I will take it iced in an icy tone clearly frustrated by this whole process assured his beliefs about Starbucks are founded.

I pay the clerk and take our place at a table to wait for our drinks. While we are waiting, my husband rants to me why he can't get a simple coffee drink like every other coffee shop on the planet. Then he says, a little bit like a 4 year old child, all I want is a blended Caramel Macchiato with soy, I don't understand why they can't blend it.

Through his rants, he asks me every other second is that our drinks? I keep telling him no they will call when our drinks are ready. Finally, at long last they call my drink. Little did I know they had also set his drink off to the side of my drink. My husband saw it but I did not. He kept asking me is that my drink? I kept saying no, they have not called it out yet. A few minutes later a customer tapped my husband on the shoulder and said I think that is your drink. OK now I feel stupid – How sitcomish could this trip to Starbucks get? My husband picks up his drink and notices a ton of caramel on the side, on the top, and on the bottom, he looks at me and says don't they stir their drinks here? How am I supposed to stir my drink? He starts to panic as he looks at this new drink he is not used to. I assure him his drink is fine and he can use his straw to stir up the extra caramel they put on the sides, bottom and top.

We finally leave Starbucks and get out to our car and my husband takes his first tentative drink, the first words out of his mouth: WOW this is good! I may have to go back there again. I looked at him and simply smiled and think to myself another convert lives on and silently pray the next time will go smoother.

Stay Tuned….

By: Barbara Ryan-Galpin