The United States of Starbucks

The name "Too Much Coffee" isn't just a reference to the overall attitude of the column which I have enjoyed writing for the past year and a half, though it certainly does describe the condition in which I often find myself at the moment inspiration strikes. No, for me, coffee is a way of life. It is the good friend that helps me through the day, the life blood of my sustenance.

David Letterman once said: "If it weren't for the coffee, I'd have no identifiable personality whatsoever." I knew there was a reason I always preferred him over Leno. (On a side note, whose job is it to tell Jay Leno that he isn't funny, and why is he shirking his duties?)

Another of my favorite comedians – in fact, the man I consider to be my personal comedic muse – had his own quote concerning coffee. George Carlin recently observed: "The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the asshole. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a 'decaf Grande half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low and one NutraSweet,' ooh, you're a huge asshole."

In an ironic twist, I believe Carlin stole my material on this one – ironic, because I've been stealing his material and pretending it was my own for many years. I once wrote on some Internet message board somewhere years ago that the longer the name of your coffee drinks, the gayer you are. We expect twenty-something ex-sorority girls making their way through their first year at the swanky law form to order a "Venti, extra hot, no whip, no foam, soy Caramel Macchiato with one-and-a-half Splenda's and sugar-free caramel sauce" in order to help them get through their 14 hour day to feed their "Having It All" syndrome.

But no straight man should ever make such an order. I really enjoy going in to Starbucks and placing the following order: "Coffee." I'm as straight as they come, and my cock is massive. So I order coffee. Every once in a while, I'll do the Carmel Macchiato thing, but I'll order it with an extra shot, so as not to offend the coffee Gods. I seem to experience moderate shrinkage nonetheless, and find myself involuntarily browsing the "Lambda Rising" bookstore window afterwards.

Shortly after making my "long coffee name = gay" declaration, I was at a the DuPont Circle Starbucks (not the one on the corner of Connecticut and R, not the one on 20th and P, not the one just south of the circle across from the 18th St. Lounge, but the one on the corner of Connecticut and Dupont, just north of the circle) ordering my real man's coffee drink, when this flamboyant lisping queen who made Liberace seem like the Marlboro Man walked into the store and placed the following order:

"Can I get a Grande white chocolate mocha no foam latte with one and a half espresso shots, nonfat, organic milk and only about half the vanilla syrup you normally use?"

Wow. It's true. Though maybe it had more to do with location than sexual preference.

And yes, it is also true that there are four Starbucks in immediate proximity to DuPont Circle area in my hometown of Washington, D.C. In fact, if you stand on the fountain wall in the southeast quadrant of the circle itself, you can see all of them at once. Why do we need so many Starbucks, and how do they all thrive?

The story goes like this; once upon a time in Seattle during the Starbucks Paleolithic era, a building which contained one of the first trillion franchise locations was to go under repair, with the accompanying scaffoldings and temporary walkways. This building's store was a particularly profitable one, and the folks at Starbucks worried that customers would not be able to get their fix. The solution was to open another store down and across the street.

Much to their surprise, the store behind the plywood sidewalk barrier suffered no noticeable drop-off in sales, and the new store did quite well, too. The message? Open as many stores as possible. It doesn't matter how close to each other they are.

The larger message is simple. Caffeine is a drug. A legal drug. Americans like drugs. Drugs are easy to sell. Drug dealers stay in one place and people flock to them.

Many Americans have this "work hard, play hard" attitude (see the aforementioned "Having It All" syndrome), and coffee helps facilitate this desperate need to be a high-powered, take-no-prisoners corporate ass-kicker by day, and a lampshade-wearing, club-hopping, life-having social idol by night. In other words, the Venti quadruple shot extra hot Cinnamon Dolce latte with extra syrup at 8 AM helps people get over the double dirty, extra cold, extra shaken martini with four olives and a twist at 3 AM.

But there has to be more to the Starbucks revolution than just the drug aspect. Coffee houses have been around for a long time, and they didn't have lines out the doors. They don't have 170 franchises within a five mile radius of the corner of 45th and Madison in Manhattan (that truly is an accurate number, in case you are wondering). What Starbucks has done is combine the ice cream parlor with the drug dealer. This concept clearly appeals to Americans who want to remain forever young.

Your father's coffee house sold primarily just plain old coffee or perhaps a café au lait. They may have had an espresso machine (not expresso, espresso) making espresso shots and cappuccinos available. But that was about the extent of it.

Starbucks combined clever marketing, aggressive business practices and crazy, sugary, foamy coffee drinks with fancy names. Mix sugar and caffeine, and you've got the speedball of the new millennium. Now, someone who wasn't particularly fond of the taste of coffee – and got their caffeine fix through sodas – could order their Carmel Macchiato (which, at Starbucks, is not really a Macchiato at all but a silly mix of cappuccino and latte) and entirely avoid that coffee flavor which they had come to dislike.

Today, I try to steer clear of Starbucks as much as possible. They seem to over-roast their coffee, giving it a burnt tang, which (I am convinced) they do to make people believe their coffee is really strong (it isn't). But much of the reason for my avoidance has to do with my distaste for corporate chains; I don't like Blockbuster, Wal-Mart, Applebee's and the like. Give me mom and pop every time.

Thing is, the mom and pop coffee houses now offer all those sickly sweet, frothy drinks that one can find at Starbucks. They have to, if they want to remain competitive. Such is the way of the future.

Oh well. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. I'll have a Triple Venti Caramel Macchiato with extra caramel sauce, to go. Oh wait - at Starbucks, it's always to go, even if you're having your coffee there.

Pour some sugar in me.

Evan Redmon is a manager of a public golf course in Washington, D.C. and writes a few things about stuff sometimes. Contact him at evanredmon@yahoo.com if you really want.