You sneaky little whippersnapper. There IS one of you left, hiding in my cabinet, swimming around in your giant cardboard envelope! Good morning!

I smile as I tear your aesthetically attractive foil tubing. I know that when I drink you my stomach will burn, just a little. And that, deep down, I actually prefer the instant Nescafe to your finely ground wares.

You are strong as a motherfucker, and not as yummy as the coffee my husband makes when he’s on a ‘coffee obsession tear,’ but you, my dear Via Starbucks Packet, yes, you!

You will do just fine.

Never mind that with you, I need to add twice the sweetener I use with Nescafe.

Never mind that with you, I need to add a dollop of extra half and half. Which makes you too cold. It’s cool. I have a microwave.

And never mind that you cost twice as much as my instant Nescafe.

Because YOU, little baby Via, you vixen, you… YOU!

…are sexy.

Starbucks. The brand of champions.

(Champions who love caffeine and over-roasted coffee beans.)

Today, I am a champion.

Thanks to you.

c/xo,

Sheva (BatSheva Vaknin)

Come give mama a kiss. MWAH!