My Starbucks moved across the street.
I’ve joked a bit about this transition, teasing that I’m handling it well, that I’m only a little bit angry, that I needed to walk the perimeter to be sure of its boundaries. I’ve joked and laughed and made light of it.
I’ve taken some teasing. What kind of routinized, old woman am I, anyway, if I can’t simply move across the street to spacious dining, better parking, and upscale everything that means more dollar signs for the green aprons?
The truth is, it’s kind of a big deal for me.
Starbucks was the first place I went on my own, back when I couldn’t go anywhere on my own.
When night bled into morning and one day spilled into the next, Starbucks was my only goal and destination.
When I couldn’t go home, I went to Starbucks.
When I couldn’t go to church, I went to Starbucks.
When I couldn’t pray, the psalms prayed me – at Starbucks.
When the staff learned our story, when they learned that my children and I needed a safe place to be, they kept a box of games, coloring books, and crayons – just for the little boys who liked hot chocolate. And the smaller one who learned to order an “iced soy chai.”
That corner table was my sanctuary. My safest place.
I cried a million tears in that corner.
I turned on my Mac for the first time in that corner.
I wrote a book in that corner.
“Decaf Tall Salted Caramel Mocha, no whip”
“Decaf Grande Toffee Nut Americano, with a splash of cream.”
I know they simply moved across the street. And I have moved with them.
But the music is louder and the crowd is different and the managers have changed and the staff has shifted and I can’t find my new space and my beloved corner table is now an empty storefront, 300 yards away.
I can look at it, but I can never go back.
I will keep coming to the new place. And I’ll make it my own. The staff is learning my name. Although they often call me Amy.
My Starbucks moved across the street.
And I just wanted to say: it’s kind of a big deal.
You’re a true warrior.. You just keep pressing through. You’re in my prayers tonight..
It IS a big deal… so many memories made (but not left) across the street.
Almost brought tears to my eyes.
I was reading a bit on Elisabeth Elliot’s site this morning and came across some advice she gave. I immediately thought of you (one of my favorite writers).
“One final word: don’t be a writer if you can get out of it! It’s a solitary job, sometimes a rather lonely one (who’s listening? you say), and it requires relentless self-discipline. The world is _not_ waiting with bated breath for what you turn out. A writer has to be some kind of nut to stick with it. But if, like the psalmist, you say, “My heart was hot within me, while I was musing the fire burned,” then perhaps you will have to write.” E.E.
No matter how lonely it gets or how you may feel, know that the world does need what you have to say and that your words move your readers’ hearts. You are a blessing, Tricia. Thank you for writing.
I completely get that! I’m a creature of routine and having
familiar surroundings. We can only stand so much change and
you’ve had so much radical change. I still miss my favorite little
stores that have gone out of business. I get you! This is really
big for you. It was your “other” home.
Tricia, was your Starbucks the one next to Einsteins? Because I know it moved across the street. AND, you have come so far with your feelings and moving on in general, that this seems like just another step in your growth and that it was meant to be.
Oh how I get this, too. And I think we should send this blogpost to the execs at Starbucks:) Years ago, I proposed that someone should write a book about the stories that flow from gatherings at Starbucks. Our church literally started from friends at a local Starbucks…..
Just the other day the kids and I were talking about how we hate when things that used to be there aren’t there anymore. For you, that’s a huge reality you live with every day. We weren’t talking about people though, but about Borders, and Blockbuster, and Hire’s Root Beer.
Starbucks is still around but what used to be there isn’t there anymore. It sucks.