Ah, Starbucks. Where would I be without you?
[Written on 7th July 2008]
Well, inside the serviced apartment, sitting on the bed watching the cleaner faff about, and lifting my feet when she runs the hoover round like you used to as a child, I imagine. Until she wants to make the bed that is. Then I suppose I’d have to move to the chair. Either that, or I might be in danger of being unceremoniously dumped onto the floor, just like in that episode of Sex and the City where the oriental housekeeper of one of Samantha’s guys doesn’t approve of his choice of ‘houseguest’.
So, to avoid the snooty little notes that come through the door if I permanently leave on the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign – they go something along the lines of, “we were unable to service your room today due to your request for privacy,” (I can almost hear the sneer and the thoughts of ‘lazy cow’ from them) “call us immediately to arrange a time when we can come and snoop through your things,” – I take refuge in Starbucks.
It’s become a curious, yet necessary habit I’ve developed since being in this apartment, and that’s not to say it’s not without its perks. (And yes, ok, before you all email me in disgust calling me Pinocchio, I do admit to having a certain penchant for the green-and-white coffeehouse while still in England; but that was predominantly a ‘latte on the run’ thing, I rarely ever sat down there.)
The plus points undeniably start with the refreshments. I am a complete wuss when it comes to coffee, meaning it needs to be as weak as possible while still actually being coffee. (Though I am also a fan of hot milk – which is exactly what I was presented with in Italy when I ordered a latte. Note to self - 'latte' literally means milk, so you need to add the word caffe or the connoisseurs will think you're a weirdo.) After extensive research, I’ve discovered that Starbucks make the weakest, and therefore the tastiest, latte, so I’m happy to cough up my HK$31 (just over £2). There’s also a fairly decent selection of snacks on offer – much better than the bland choice of mainly cakes and sandwiches in England.
In the majority of the cafés, you’ll find there’s very handy access to free Wi-Fi, meaning if you’re on your own – as I often am – you can look marginally less pathetic and like a Norma-no-mates by aggressively bashing away at your laptop keyboard. I believe it is written, if not in the Bible, in some other weighty tome: the more aggressive the bashing = the more important, popular and therefore less pathetic you are. However, to my mild dismay, on one such ‘escape the cleaner’ mission last week, having lugged the laptop down there, I discovered that my local branch doesn’t actually offer this sneaky route onto the information superhighway. (Naturally I only discovered this after a good half an hour of trying and failing to gain access to any one of the 20 or so wi-fi networks detected in the area.) You’ll all be thrilled (and relieved, I'm sure) to know that when we’ve moved, my new local can wi-fi me up good. And yes, I did go onto Starbucks' Hong Kong website to find that out :-).
A minor point, but one that’s no less important, is that sitting here with a coffee means I look slightly like I have a purpose. There are a number of benches dotted around this shopping mall, but when I sat on one of those for an hour or so writing in a notebook (again, on a ‘oh, ok, I’ll go out, but only because I want you to change the bed and do the washing up’ excursion) all I got were stares and confused looks. Maybe they thought I was a spy taking notes on everyone. Hmm..maybe next time I’ll wear a beret. All female spies wear berets, don’t they? Or is that only 'la résistance’ agents, like Michelle from “’Allo ‘Allo!”?
And so, to the final advantage of visiting Starbucks, and my favourite one, which is the people-watching. There’s nothing better than free access to the multi-faceted cross section of society that are sat in a café at 3.15 in the afternoon.
There’s the group of WAGS who clearly have nothing in common except for the fact that they’ve all managed to reproduce – you can tell from the way they don’t actually talk to each other; they just thrust their offspring in each other’s faces like it’s some sort of competition. This group obviously has its downsides – like the ear-splitting screeching that was coming from one of the buggies just now – er, perhaps the child doesn’t like the fact that its buggy is covered with a blanket… (To prevent what? It seeing the new Fendi range and demanding one in every colour?)
Then you’ve got single males dotted around, ages range from 14 – 40, all with their eyes glued to the laptop screen in front of them. They’ve mostly been here so long the waitress has cleared the coffee cup away hours ago – they’re not even pretending to spend any money here. Sometimes they come in twos, but then you just have two laptops – they couldn’t possibly speak to each other – are you mad?!
Next there’s the couple sitting opposite each other who are just glumly staring off into space above each other’s heads. Can’t work out if this is post-argument silence or just boredom with each other’s company; either way, when some Starbucks dude comes round offering a free trial of a new blend of coffee, they literally both jump out of their chairs at the chance of alternative human interaction.
And finally there’s the girl, who, like yours truly, has papers spread across the table and is scribbling away, to all the world seeming like she has something pressing to write about.
Fortunately, never has the word ubiquitous been so appropriate than when it comes to describing Starbucks here in Honkers. Otherwise, quite frankly, that housemaid and I just might come to blows.
PS The picture was borrowed from a fellow blogger - apparently, at Starbucks, there's a secret, hidden fourth size of drink you can ask for called a 'short'. Even at the wise old age of 29, you learn something new every day...
