I didn’t know my addiction was that bad

I feel like I need to rename this blog. Or maybe just add a new subtitle or something. Because I spend a lot of time writing about Starbucks here.

The other day I heard some horrible news. Apparently Starbucks profits for this year were down 97%.

For those who don’t know, Kim and myself owe our university education to Starbucks. They kept us awake many nights when our beds called to us while essay deadlines and examination dates loomed. When we couldn’t concentrate at home because we were looking up useless facts or Hawaiian real estate on the internet or we had to watch just one more episode of Law and Order (which would always lead to some fight on the politics behind the episode), we would head to Starbucks to sit and study, hoping we’d be able to focus on the task at hand (most probably, but not always true).

While I figured that when we graduated we might miss late night runs to Starbucks, we would take turns walking to the corner of Davie and Denman right before they closed for the night. Sometimes we’d spot fellow students making their late night run (our favorite was the guy who went in his pajama’s and robe, we would at least put on clothes), most time’s we’d catch some really bad karaoke action at the bar on the way. I’d often have to dodge the drunk creepy old guy in the building who was always hitting on me. And then there was Bobo. Oh Bobo, the homeless guy in front of Max. His name wasn’t Bobo, we just called him that (why am I talking like he’s dead)… we CALL him that. We’d always come back from a Starbucks run and report back what Bobo was doing. Sometimes he’d be sleeping on the Max sidewalk, other times he’d be inside watching hockey on their TV, he is also known to talk to himself and say random things to people walking by. The best (well for me, who didn’t bear witness to this) was when Kim saw him doing his business in the middle of the sidewalk… she came home horrified that she had seen him, well, you know, doing numero due.

I had no idea what us graduating was going to do for their business. Never mind the fact that we’re not even in the country to still support them. Sure, one of us is still in a country that has a Starbucks (apparently I’ll be able to get the nectar of the God’s when I get to Berlin), but us leaving North America, specifically Vancouver where there is a Starbucks on every block (three actually on the block where we lived) has killed their business.

Don’t work ‘Bucks. I’ll try to make up my part when I get to Berlin. Sadly, I hear they do not have egg nogg latte’s, but instead some weird German latte that includes pastry of some sort. I’ve been warned that I will need to try this delicacy. I’m also afraid that I’ll have to drink out of a huge beer stein when I get to Germany. Will the German’s kick me out for not liking beer? Can I get wine in that?

Oh! Today I may have also found a new Christmas drink. My mom always had this thing when she had a cold, she would boil red wine with cloves, cinnamon and lemon. I never thought this would work, instead it’s just a way of getting drunk to forget your symptoms. I told my aunt this yesterday as she was explaining this drink to me, but instead she says it’s not just a cure for what ails you, but a drink for the holidays. We went to a Christmas market today and I tried it. It’s pretty good, doesn’t make up for the no latte situation, but you know, I do what I can (which is apparently drink to forget?).