Starbucks

"Hey Mom!  Look Starbucks!"  I heard these words as I walked past the medical school book store on le rue de l'ecole de medicine.  In my head, I said I hear ya kiddo!  This little American tourist recognized a US icon in a city of "-eries"...brasseries, patisseries, boulangeries...etc.  I think I can guess how he felt about it too.  Oh look, a little piece of home...right here near the Odeon Metro Stop.

Starbucks back home was always a place to go for the occassional special treat; an espresso truffle tall with a little something to go with it.  Bill and I would go once or twice a month to the Starbucks in Nashua, for a change of pace and quiet, confidential conversation in cozy arm chairs...a couple's indulgence.

Here in Paris, I found Starbucks on the first Tuesday of our exploratory trip--thank goodness-- between the stress of house hunting, absorbing the enormity of being on the precipice of a huge leap in our lives, seeing that green mermaid was a life line.  After being in Paris and drinking the jet fuel they call cafe, I was shaking with relief and the need to let go in the familiar surroundings in a foreign land.  Oh did I NEED that tall mocha!

We sat in the Starbucks on the Avenue de Victor Hugo with Camille...you know...kind and hyper. She and Bill were talking quietly about leases and the ins and outs of utilties.  I just zoned out, caught in the aroma of the American style coffee...and the clutches of jet lag and praising Herman Melville.   Never before in my life did I need something so badly.  I almost cried.  Drinking that coffee was like a prayer.

A few days later, Camille took us to the 5th and 6th arrondisments where we would find our apartment--and what do you think I saw; not one, not two, but three Starbucks within a 3 block radius of our building....aaaahhhh! Islands of familiarity there if and when I need them.  Often, on that exploratory/business trip, I was alone in Paris.  I walked the area, taking this left or that, but I could always get my bearings when I found one of my Starbucks.  Each day, I would trek to a different Starbucks, load up on a tall mocha (you order it the same way in French as in English) and a croissant or pain au chocolate and go to the lounge area in order to journal or people watch.  It was kind of neat to watch how people in Paris react to this American Institution. 

First, students from La Sorbonne and the other universities in the area abound, so that's pretty normal.  They spread out over the couches and study tables, connecting to the world wide web with the store's Wi-fi.  They study, read and debate fueled by Venti this or Grande that...snacking on pancakes and syrup! Starbucks seems ideal for students...perhaps it feels like a home away from home for them.

Then there are the tourists...I know how they feel...Look!! A word/ name I can read and understand...let's get a Starbucks!  And as I said before, you can order Tall Mocha or a Mocha Tall and voila...you get it.  And nobody cares what kind of coffee you order and when.

The French have a very precise order to cafe...cafe creme or cafe au lait for breakfast,  cappucino in the early afternoon and cafe espress, noisette or cafe allonge later in the day or after dessert.  Cafe is served in tiny cups...demi-tasse...cuz if you drink an American sized mug of the stuff, it would take you three days to come down off the caffeine high. 

Ah, the locals...Parisians who revel in taking time in their cafes are quite impatient standing in line and more so with the poor barista preparing their order.  Students get it...foreigners get it, but the older Parisians have the expectation that Starbucks equals fast food. I am amazed at the number of people who actually go into Starbucks for a meal...not just for coffee and a snack. Parisians are still wrapping their heads around the coffee to go concept--so it is hurry up with my Macchiato so I can go sit outside for hours at your little cafe tables, Mr. Starbucks Man. 

With the exception of the first weeks here, when Bill and the girls hit Starbucks two or three times a week, because we didn't have internet yet in the flat, we haven't been to Starbucks much.  But there are those cold, rainy days when you want a mug or even the large paper cup to wrap your hands around and breathe in the smell of something warm and familiar.  It is ressuring to know they are there...for quiet, confidential conversation in a cozy armchair.

Oh look...Starbucks.