A Tale of Pike Place

From my blog at AngeLingo:

For my first blog post on our newly redesigned site, I find it perfectly fitting to tell you the tale of my maiden voyage to THE ORIGINAL STARBUCKS. Perhaps I did not emphasize that enough.

The Original Starbucks

 

My tale begins with three college students piling into my roommate(Leigh!)’s car at the wee, early hour of 9:00am. After many miles of sleeping traveling, from city to city and climate to climate, the three students arrive at Berkeley (read: sssssssss) for room and board–specifically couches and the most amazing bread from a small restaurant named La Note.

P.S. I’m just kidding about the sssssssss thing. Between football seasons, I ♥ Berkeley.

Two days of glorious fun in San Francisco pass, of which include miniature tales of dinosaurs, skulls, middle-of-nowhere-sushi, bar hopping, drinking, Saint Patty’s Day celebrations, Leigh purposefully provoking a debate with Brandice so she does not freak out that she is under millions of tons of water in a NON-WATERPROOF tram-thing, and much much more.

Alas, after many more miles of traveling and mountainous driving, the three students arrive in Seattle, which is where our real tale begins…

The first scheduled tourist destination is Pike Place, which for all of those unfamiliar with Seattle, really just means PIKE PLACE STARBUCKS, AKA:

The Original Starbucks

 

Well, maybe it is the Farmer’s Market of Seattle… but Pike Place is the home of the very first Starbucks EVER. And really this post is just an excuse venue for me to post pictures and brag because anybody who knows me will name my Starbucks addiction as one of my most defining qualities.

As we are walking through the quirky Pike Place, which smells of fish and fish, I see it. There. Without being told this is the original Starbucks (because I am retarded and failed to correlate Pike Place Roast with PIKE PLACE BEING THE HOME OF THE ORIGINAL STARBUCKS), I know. I know this Starbucks must be the first, the original. I walk near the intimidating yet welcoming entrance, one foot slowly following the other, and then stand in awe below the historic ugly siren. (←Must read link to your left)

 

 

Immediately upon stepping within the store’s handsomely aged walls, my nostrils fill with the sublime and heavenly smell of… well, STARBUCKS COFFEE. (Geez, what did you expect?) I approach the counter and, with my heart fluttering, order my usual–yet it is completely unusual and intoxicating.  Then magically from across the store my drink appears. 

 

 

A Grande Peppermint Mocha Frappuccino just for me. With a beautiful covering of mocha drizzle, also just for me. The first sip, as it moves from cup to straw to tongue, tastes of complete delight. The frappuccino’s pure magic elicits this behavior:

 

 

The End.