Yesterday morning I walked down to 39th Street to buy the Sunday newspaper and get some morning caffeine.  As usually, I headed straight for the Crave Cafe
only find that it didn’t open for another 30 minutes.  Since I was disparate for coffee the morning after a long day and night, I switched to Plan B and instead went to the Starbucks nearby.  That was quickly followed by a brisk, 4-block walk of shame whereby I tried to hide my Starbucks cup behind the newspaper and hoped no one saw me before I got home.

I’m not a militant anti-Starbucks person. While I do go out of my way to support local businesses, I just plain don’t like the taste of Starbucks’ coffee.  It tastes burned to me.  I read once that this was on purpose.  Since their need for coffee beans is so huge, they have to get them from multiple sources.  The only way to ensure a consistent taste around the world is to over-roast and then scorch the coffee so that the regional differences disappear under mediocrity.

Pete, if you find this post, I’m sorry.  But an 9:30 a.m. opening time on Sunday morning fails