Let’s first address any confusion that might stem from the title and/or existence of this article. This is not an installment of Shit That Needs to Stop, as I have already addressed the most egregious missteps possible at a Starbucks in a previous post.
No, this is the second installment of the award-winning series Excerpts from Suburbia, and it focuses on the quirks and foibles of, and anecdotes from, local Starbucks locations.
Before we did rage-inducing irritations. Now we do cute idiosyncrasies and stories. Good? Good.
Anyway, without further ado (and I’ve already ado’d the shit out of this), on to Excerpts From Suburbia : Starbucks.
Continue reading Excerpts from Suburbia : Starbucks
The suburbs. It’s the same shit on every corner. If you need anything that’s not a cell phone, fake tan, cup of Starbucks, or burger, you’re probably gonna have to drive a little. And oh yes, you will drive, because mass transit in the suburbs is like tolerance at the Republican National Convention – it might exist, but you’re gonna need a map and good luck to find it.
Being the savvy, cultured, international debutante that I am, it’s not always a comforting experience here in Suburbia; I can get a little restless looking for novelty and excitement. I’ve come to learn, though, that if I pay enough attention, I can still find wonderful and bizarre things.
This week, I spent a couple hours in Panera Bread.
Continue reading Excerpts from Suburbia : Panera Bread