Dear Starbucks

Call me a hopeless romantic…
Call me a man of tradition…
Call me a metrosexual worship leader for drinking a Venti Skinny Hazelnut Latte…
But don’t call me “Carlis”
photo-7
But my real beef with the sticker, besides the misfortune of my name, is the sticker itself.
Starbucks…
There is not a lot that is “homey” about your stores.
They get it done.
They give me the coffee that I want.
They are very efficient machines.
And I am assuming that is why you went to the sticker.
But let me tell you something about the sticker.
You just took one of the only “human” things away from my experience.
There was something human about seeing that black sharpie code scribbled on the side of my cup.

3242039830_c7bcceb99c_o
I have no idea how to decipher your code.
But it was the only “personal touch” I could expect from a store.
And now I get a sticker slapped on the side of my cup that still has the boxes you used to scribble your coffee love note to me.
Only to cover it with that God awful sticker.
I know in the end it makes you faster.
But that scribble, now that it’s gone…
Takes you one step closer to McCafe.

Sincerely,
Metrosexual Skinny Hazlenut Latte Drinking Customer…
Carlos