Monday, April 03, 2006
Television and Starbucks: Two Shameful Addictions
It doesn't matter what invitation is offered me this evening. I will be nowhere else but in front of my TV at 9:00. A traditionalist at heart, I have not yet invested in such modern day amenities as Tivo or DVR (whatever that is), and therefore must actually watch a television show the moment that it airs. In times of sheer desperation, I will hit record on my archaic VCR and leave the house, hoping that the entire show is saved before the tape runs out. (The idea of programming the VCR to tape at a specific time is a talent that I have long ago abandoned the thought of attaining). Long story short, 24 comes on tonight. And with the exception of a Beyonce concert, nothing can keep me from it.
Even more pathetic than my crippling addition to well written television shows is my recently acquired Starbucks habit. It started innocently enough: a tall caramel frappucino with whipped cream each Saturday after Pilates class. Soon I was visiting during my free periods at school. Now, even if I can't get out of the building, I send my poor intern to do my bidding. I must have my chai latte. And why? Does it really taste like five dollars? Not really. It's the pleasant service ("How's your day going?" - and they seem to actually care what the answer is!), the ability to specify the order (can I have my chai with soy milk, extra hot, no foam?), and the fact that simply holding the Starbucks cardboard cup has become a status symbol. When I walk the street with my caramel macchiato in hand and whip my huge sunglasses out of my purse (though it's only 50 degrees), I feel like I could indeed be Mary Kate or Ashley Olsen, or even both of them at once. The power of the Buck.
Even more pathetic than my crippling addition to well written television shows is my recently acquired Starbucks habit. It started innocently enough: a tall caramel frappucino with whipped cream each Saturday after Pilates class. Soon I was visiting during my free periods at school. Now, even if I can't get out of the building, I send my poor intern to do my bidding. I must have my chai latte. And why? Does it really taste like five dollars? Not really. It's the pleasant service ("How's your day going?" - and they seem to actually care what the answer is!), the ability to specify the order (can I have my chai with soy milk, extra hot, no foam?), and the fact that simply holding the Starbucks cardboard cup has become a status symbol. When I walk the street with my caramel macchiato in hand and whip my huge sunglasses out of my purse (though it's only 50 degrees), I feel like I could indeed be Mary Kate or Ashley Olsen, or even both of them at once. The power of the Buck.
