After carrying on a three-day love affair with my sofa while I was sick this past weekend, I was finally well enough to leave the house. On route to church, M and I stopped off at Starbucks. I couldn’t wait to step up to the counter and in one breath rattle off “tall green tea cream frap no whip” - which I can now say 10 times fast without biting my tongue having ordered it so many times - But M ordered it before I had the chance. “I’m sorry, we don’t have that anymore,” said the voice from behind the counter. “What?” I said frantically, “What do you mean you don’t have it anymore? You mean like… ever?” I started to panic. “It may be back next spring,” the barista said with little sympathy. “Next spring?! Are you serious?” My eyes got a little misty. “Yes, I’m sorry,” she said, still holding the empty cup and pressing the black marker to it impatiently, “what would you like?” “Then I don’t want anything,” I said in a low and defeated voice, much like a 5 year old who didn’t get that pony she asked for, for Christmas.
M was unsympathetic to my dismay. “It tastes like they took all of the flowers from the garden in front of Starbucks and grinded it up into a drink,” he once told me after I forced him to sample my favorite green beverage. I almost didn’t forgive him for that… especially after the time he told me that it tasted like spinach, and I, as a result, tasted nothing but spinach until I got to the bottom of my clear plastic cup. Among other insults to my dearly departed, was that it tasted like GRASS. No it did not! It tasted like heaven… and now it’s sadly gone. Fall is officially here. I’ll have to wait another year before enjoying my favorite drink again and warding off discriminatory comments.
Kermit the frog had a point.