I’ve had an unhealthy addiction to Starbucks since I was 15.  There was one on my way to school and it was love at first taste.  I miss the Tazoberry- you remember it, that sweet and tangy fuschia pink blended drink with whip cream on top.  When I started to drive my relationship with Starbucks got intense, the Barristas (if they were even called that back them) knew me by name and somehow instinctively knew if I wanted a White Chocolate Mocha, a Chai Latte or a Tazoberry and Cream.  I’d walk in they’d start making my drink.  In the summer everything was iced, sometimes in the fall I’d switch it up with a caramel cider, but for the most part they could guess what I wanted.  One day my senior year in high school after a horrible, horrible break up, I stumbled in disheveled and without make-up.  My favorite manager Joe came over to me and asked if I was okay and I just kinda shook my head, he asked me if I wanted anything particular and I said I don’t know. Then he said something along the lines of okay lets narrow down your choices, hot or cold.  I said hot, then he asked coffee or tea and I just started crying.  To which he got severely uncomfortable and said never mind how about some hot chocolate with whipped cream.  He ushered me over to one of the big comfy chairs they used to have and went to make my drink.  I took out some money to pay him, but he said it was on him and handed me some napkins and a big chocolate muffin to go with it.  I just kinda half smiled up at him and thanked him and went on my way to school.  Half way through my muffin and hot chocolate I started to feel better.  I took a few days off from Starbucks after that, too embarrassed to face Joe again, but when I finally returned everything was just like normal, they knew what I wanted and I paid and left. 

When I was single I frequently visited the drug store.  Weekend mornings for hangover supplies, after work for quick wine purchases.  I preferred the drug store to the grocery store cause it was quicker and on my way home, so I went there for everything.  I can very clearly remember this older woman who used to work the cash register, she has a super high pitch baby voice.  I also remember one mid-day stop I saw a man standing outside the doors in a suite drinking a small carton of chocolate milk.  I remember trying not to laugh or smile when I walked past him and I looked up and him and he had kinda of paused mid sip like he was embarrassed I caught him.  Sometime later I read that after an workout drinking chocolate milk can be good for you, so thinking back on it I assume he had just worked out or something, but at the time I remember finding it kind of endearing that a professional adult man would drink chocolate milk outside of the drug store in the middle of the day.