What Happened to Plain Coffee?

I hate coffee. Seriously. I hate the smell of coffee brewing. I think it smells like someone has set the drapes on fire. Not just any drapes, but those old drapes that had that weird fiberglass lining. It's a sharp, strong smell that I put up with on the weekend mornings because my husband loves coffee. He's in a rush on the weekdays so he doesn't take the time to make coffee, but he likes it on the weekends. During the week, he normally goes to McDonald's to get coffee. Or at least, he used to.


He has taken a few days off work, along with the 4th of July, so we went out to breakfast and went shopping for a new bed. After breakfast, he announced he wanted to go by Starbucks to get some coffee. I knew someone he works with had introduced him to Starbucks and he sometimes went there for coffee. He had come home one afternoon with a cup of something he insisted I try - "It's great, you'll love it, it has caramel in it!" "Well, is it...COFFEE?" "Yes, but it's good, it's great, it's delicious, it doesn't even TASTE like coffee!"


He was so insistent that I tasted it and then immediately had to go rinse my mouth out with water. It did, indeed, taste like coffee. Sweet, caramely coffee. But coffee nonetheless. He was puzzled and little hurt that I didn't immediately gush about how fabulous it was and run right out to Starbucks and get one for myself.


So, we went to the Starbucks drive through. And this is what he ordered. With no trace of embarrassment at all. A Grande Non-Fat Marble Mocha Macchiato, Stirred. Apparently, the stirred part is important. Otherwise the marble swirling is too concentrated and you can get a big mouthful of espresso. Which is not a good thing. He used to stir it himself and then his Starbucks friends told him they could stir it for him. So, now he orders it pre-stirred. He took his Starbucks cup with the little brown cardboard holder on it, so you won't burn your hand, and he sighed in contentment. I, on the other hand, was EXTREMELY amused.


Tom is not a snob. He has raved for years about "the yuppies" this and that and how I like to eat at yuppie restaurants and how I am such a yuppie and how the yuppies are taking over the world and how he is so not a yuppie.


And as he sat there drinking his Grande Non-Fat Marble Mocha Macchiato, Stirred, I thought "You are SO totally a yuppie. A super yuppie. You know what. You are the King of the Yuppies!" I didn't say anything. Because he didn't care if he was now a yuppie. He had his Starbucks coffee. And he was happy.