The other day, Peter was trying to fix a date on when he became addicted to Starbucks, in that a tough day doesn’t begin properly without a caffeinated something in a “venti” tub. He thought it started during the short-lived period he was taking Neil to his middle school math classes but I pointed out that we’d spent quite a few afternoons kicking back in Starbucks cafes when Neil was already an infant. And that the source of our Starbucks infatuation dated even further back to that.
I was working at a (now long defunct) magazine called MacUser back in 1994 when Pam Pfiffner (who was either still a senior editor or had become the editor-in-chief, I can’t remember which) gave me a Starbucks gift certificate. A Starbucks cafe had just opened near the offices, and Pam, who had a long relationship and love for the Pacific Northwest, was so thrilled about it that she bought gift certificates for everyone else in the office. Not being a coffee person by nature, I pondered the gift certificate, but finally, on some lunch break, I decided to check out this Starbucks thing. I confided my indifference to coffee to the “barista” who recommended I try a mocha frappuccino. It was yummy, and when I got home I told Peter all about the chocolate coffee milkshake I’d enjoyed thanks to Pam. He had to try it too, and thus was an addiction started.
I hope Pam’s getting a kick back from Starbucks.