Starbucks for Lunch


A few weeks ago, somebody from HR came into my office and handed me a $25 Starbucks gift card. The reason had to do with our swell conference in Philadelphia, or something like that. Often, Chris takes the Starbucks cards I receive from Santa and the Easter Bunny, seeing as how he’ll go to Starbucks regardless of whether or not he has a gift card—and I’d rather that he not use real money there.

Because Starbucks is expensive.

Anyhoo, right about this time, Chris received an enormous Starbucks gift card for his birthday from my parents, and I thought . . . Does he really need my $25 card on top of it?

Nope, I decided. He does not. This time, I was going to keep the Starbucks gift card for myself!

I’m quasi-anti-Starbucks. I think it’s just ridiculously and pointlessly expensive. I’m all for fair-trade coffee, but a Starbucks cup is a status symbol (that pretty much anybody can afford, which is just weird and doubtlessly part of the company’s success). And really, for $4.55, could you at least stir the damn drink? Taking the lid off a hot beverage with a toddler around is just asking for disaster.

All that said, I still have a bit of a soft spot in my heart for that Seattle-based company. Because, well, it’s a Seattle-based company.

But really? $4.55 for a drink? And there’s not even alcohol in it?

Fortunately, my newfound caffeine funds coincided with my slow season at work. And there’s a Starbucks a couple blocks away from my building.

So, last week during my lunch hour, I strolled to the coffee shop (sunshine! fresh air! exercise!), bought myself an iced coffee with my snazzy gift card, and sat in a squishy chair with a book.

I read about one paragraph before I realized that I could not remember the last time I had done this. When you have a toddler, the idea of hanging out in one place—with other people—is laughable. As I thought about it, I determined that the last time I read a book in a coffee shop was about a week after Charlotte was born. I was going batty in the apartment. We couldn’t drive anywhere because of snow, but my mom took my fussy newborn out of my arms and pushed me out the door, saying I couldn’t return for an hour. So I hauled myself through the snow drifts (no small feat when you’ve just delivered your first baby, I might add), across the street to the Starbucks (which was packed with other cabin-fevered Marylanders). And there I sat and read, already feeling very strange without my baby attached to me.

Fast-forward 16 months, to a bright summer day on my lunch hour. As I sat there, realizing that I had some time all to myself, I felt very, very lucky. All was as it should be. Looking at the clock, I knew Charlotte was finishing her lunch at school and would soon be going down for her nap. Chris was at work. I was at work (sort of). It seemed like that ethereal concept of work–life balance had finally been achieved! So I read a little, and was back at my desk by 1:30 (with a caffeine boost to boot).

The next day, I returned to Starbucks. And I read. And I loved it. This week, I did it again.

Not every day is a Starbucks day. Some days I have a lunch scheduled with an author or a vendor, or perhaps a meeting was stupidly scheduled during that hour. During the busy seasons (January–May is the worst), leaving for an hour is impossible. You just work straight through lunch, inhaling your Lean Cuisine without really tasting it. And you know what? Sometimes there’s a thunderstorm outside. Who wants to walk to Starbucks in that?

But as long as my Starbucks gift card holds out—and perhaps even after (although then I’ll be free to go to elsewhere, I suppose)—I’m going to take advantage of that little gift of time in the middle of the day, where I forget about work and instead mentally stroll through 18th-century Venice, or 19th-century New Hampshire, or the moors of England.

Besides, I’ve got a book club to stay on top of!

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