By Alexa Brackin
As I sit in my little corner table at Starbucks looking around at the eclectic bunch of people sharing my oxygen, I can’t help but wonder, “Why on earth am I here?”
The short answer is that I am here waiting on my triple tall espresso with one Splenda, the nectar of the gods and the reason that I am able to make it through each day. As sacred as my perfect piping cup of Starbucks coffee is and as happy as it will make me, I must tell you, I am peeved. Peeved by the fact that to get my slightly sweet black coffee with a punch, I have to endure yappy morning people, some weird pop/indie music and a very loud bean grinder, all before 8 a.m.
If you happen to be a caffeine junkie like me, you have to know how traumatizing this everyday ordeal is. Prior to about 8:47 every morning, I am an antisocial, noise-hating, coffee-minded female. The only thing I don’t mean-mug at this ungodly hour is my dog and even he doesn’t escape it all the time.
Yes, I have a coffee pot, and yes, I am more than capable of making my own coffee. But there is just something about a scorching Starbucks cup in my hand every morning before class that gives me a certain type of comfort, one that just can’t be found in my good ole Keurig.
While I appreciate the effort on the part of Starbucks and Baylor to feed my caffeine addiction, a girl just shouldn’t have to wait in a crowded library at 8:30 a.m. to get her coffee.
Mornings were just not made for people like me. Why must I haul my sleepy self 10 minutes up the road in order to have the luxury of avoiding the morning crowd? Come on, Baylor, help a sister out and bless us with a drive-thru window at Starbucks.
Since we’ve already got the coffee-drinking commuters, it would be painless be to slap a drive-thru Starbucks somewhere on campus.
This would benefit and please me more than any fountain or grassy knoll ever could. So Baylor, please hear my call. I’m in a coffee conundrum here.
Alexa Brackin is a senior journalism major from Nederland. She is the news editor for the Lariat.
