I know in some circles it’s considered politically incorrect to patronize Starbucks. Give me a pass for my uncoolness and chock it up to being a expat who gets to enjoy her lowfat decaf Carmel Machiatto only in airports and when shopping Stateside with Tonje. Well as you can see below, Starbucks opened a location in my corner of Buenos Aires suburbia today and I came first in something. They didn’t comp me my coffee, but I did get a goody bag with a pretty mug and a coupon for my next coffee.
And while the baked goods do cater to Argentine tastes, my Carmel Machiatto tasted just like the first one I fell in love with in San Francisco almost twenty years ago. That’s the magic of Starbucks for me.
My childrens were duly impressed by my achievement today. Georgie asked if I was going to keep the certificate with my Birth Certificate. The prospect of a Frappuccino comes in a close second to an embassy family gifting us a box of Mac and Cheese every blue moon.