At first, It was hard to come clean. It was unimaginably difficult to admit to myself about the person I’d become. Then, one day, it happened. The economic downturn slapped me in the face and socked the cents out of my pocketbook. Penny pinched and craving caffeine, I was forced to confront my demons.

I’m a Starbucks addict.

Venti half caf. Black. No room. Sure, I’ll get a Vanilla Latte’ on a cold February afternoon. Or stop for a Caramel Frappuccino after a hotlanta Ultimate Tennis match. But mostly I stick with the hard stuff. House Blend. So rich, so strong, so intoxicatingly irresistible.

Forget Chanel No. 5., nothing quite invigorates the nostrils like this stuff. Not to mention, it has a consistently awesome taste. I’ve spent years looking at that little mermaid logo as I sip, type, sip, type.  She’s part of the family. Like a baby blankie, I grasp my right hand firmly, comfortably around the softly cushioned cardboard that is my cup’s sleeve. There’s a coffee ring on my mousepad I need to wipe up. But truth by told,  it really doesn’t bother me.

And so my day begins every morning with a run to SB inside the Kroger at Hway 81 and 78. Good morning Tuwanna, Blake, Sara and Karen. What would I do without the dear souls?  They’re each like Mother Theresa, so selflessly getting up at 3:30 in the morning to make my brew.

But it wasn’t always this way.

These lovely SB  joints were cow pastures not too long ago. Therefore, residing in the sticks these past 8 years, I missed having access to the finer things in life. (I’m sorry, but the biggest, boxiest discount store and fast food chicken franchise–as helpful as they are–don’t count.) At least, they don’t for me.

So while living in Monroe, I’d drive to Athens once a week to get my fix. There, I’d run into other junkies-to-be reading the New York Times, studying to be veterinarians, listening to grunge music or Michael Buble and talking about their next trip to France or Italy.

Then, a few years later, we moved to Loganville. I often found myself coming up with reasons I needed to get to Lake Lucerne SB 18 miles from home. Thankfully, this was before gas was five bucks a gallon.

So I took action. I called Starbucks’ HQ in Atlanta and told them to get on it. There was not a second to waste. They were losing lotsa latte money. I was wasting gas. Lo and behold, within a year, the first Starbucks in Snellville was born.

‘Tis now 5 years later and 5 more SB’s populate the area that is Snellville, Loganville and Monroe. But can the area sustain these stores at a time when people can’t afford 4.00 for a cup of coffee lately? (Or 2.09 in my case.)

Stay tuned to my next installment. I’ll tell you how I’m getting off the juice. Or am I? And how this affects the bottom line for my favorite brand crutch.

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