Starbucks – selling more than a mediocre latte

So I am a coffee snob. Anyone who knows me would know that my ability to find a superior coffee within the vicinity in which I frequent directly impacts my immediate and foreseeable future.

My snobbery towards coffee would suggest my belief that Starbucks or any coffee chain serve mediocre and sub par coffee and should not receive my custom.

However, I am willing to release all of my caffeinated hang-ups for a 20-minute immersion in an experience that surpasses my desire for a quality coffee bean.

You walk in to any Starbucks and you could feel like you are anywhere in the world, you order from one counter, wait for your order to be called out from another, and around the world your coffee is served in the same over-sized white and green cup.

So what is it? What is it that sees this coffee lover lower such standards?

Well, it is pretty simple really:

I spot a Starbucks across the street in Surfers Paradise, and I am transported to 2009 when I was in New York City where everyday started with finding our closest Starbucks to plan our day, re-gather for more adventures or debrief our day over a skim flat white, and extra strong Grande hot chocolate.

I walk in to a Starbucks in the QVB in Sydney and I am transported to 2005 to Bondi Junction, my first year of university where I would sit and pour over books and feel completely overwhelmed, and questioning more than life choices. Then Mum would join me and the books were put away and the more important task of analyzing this season’s fashion walking back and forward was critiqued.

When I order my now Skim Flat white in George St Sydney, I am taken back to my first coffee experience, drinking a coffee put in front of me by a new boss. Staring at the liquid thinking I had to drink it for the sake of the job. It was a mocha, a drink my two friends let me consume for 8 months before they told me I need to mature as a coffee drinker and wouldn’t let me order anything other than a flat white.

I wait for my coffee order at a Starbucks in Mooloolaba, and wait for an alternative name to be called with my order (because the pain of listening to them stumble through “Siobhan” is too painful) it reminds me of all the bizarre nicknames I have received over the years. My year 2 class gave me Shanaby, my year 10 class gave me Seany, my university friends gave me Trashbag, surf club friends Shiv and variations including Shev, triathlon friends have avoided name association and landed at height associations resorting to Midget.

And I sit sipping what is probably more milk with water than coffee with milk and I am taken to the future. Some days when the world feels dark it takes me to the life I am planning to live, a life living as a journalist in New York, or as a professional triathlete travelling the globe.

Wow, all of this for the very low price of a $4 coffee? I am sure this is in Starbucks marketing plan somewhere, “to sell a culture” or some other version of marketing rhetoric. But in a sick sense it works.

This coffee snob (only every now and then) takes a trip down memory lane or checks out the freeway of the future with the help of a mediocre coffee – anywhere in the world.