Addiction and Recovery: My Starbucks Story

My relationship with Starbucks began in earnest in the fall of 1998, when I moved from Seattle, WA to Burbank, CA.   Even though there was a Starbucks everywhere I went in the Pacific Northwest, my addiction didn't start there, because I really don't like coffee. Yes, you read that right.  Love the smell of coffee, but can't stand the taste.  Way too bitter.   Most of the people I knew in Seattle that were Starbucks addicts drank actual COFFEE.  So I never really had a reason to get hooked on the whole Starbucks experience.

Then I moved to California, and a couple of things happened.   First, there was a Starbucks right across the street from my apartment complex, next to the dry cleaners and the grocery store, so I was exposed to it all the time.  Second, I worked with a bunch of stressed out claims adjusters dealing with long commutes in crazy traffic.   Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, walked around the office holding one of those cool white cups with the green logo -- all day long.

The only people I knew in Burbank when I moved were my two bosses.   I wanted to make new friends.  I wanted to fit in.  So when a bunch of my co-workers went to lunch together and stopped by Starbucks after, I was along for the ride.  When I explained I didn't drink coffee, they said "Try a Frappuccino!"  It was warm outside.  The Frappuccino was nice and cold, and it was like a delicious ice cream smoothie with that gorgeous dollop of whipped cream on the top.  Frappuccino became the gateway drug, and so my addiction began.

It didn't take me long to gain 10 extra pounds.  The pre-made mixture they use in Frappuccino is full of calories, and I was drinking at least one of these things every day.  I started with the small one, but once it started getting hot outside, the size got bigger.  I started ordering them with no whipped cream to cut the calories.

Then fall came, my body started adjusting to the California weather, and I was feeling cold for the first time since I moved, so I needed a hot drink.  As luck would have it, I was just in time for the arrival of peppermint syrup in celebration of the holiday season.  After some consultation with my barista, we determined peppermint mocha was the way to go.  For a while, I drank them with whole milk and whipped cream.  After the scale started becoming unfriendly again, I moved to non-fat, no whip.

For YEARS that was my signature drink. Venti non-fat, no whip peppermint mocha.  Hot in the winter, iced in the summer.  I practiced saying my order correctly after reading a brochure in the store instructing me about proper ordering technique:

1. Size of drink
2. Hot or iced
3. Type of milk
4. Whipped or not
5. Type of syrup
6. Extra/add ons

Beyond enjoying the beverage itself, I loved going into the store.  All the baristas knew my name because they saw me every day.  They knew my "usual" drink.  I felt important.  The Burbank store was particular fun because I would see celebrities all the time (the store was the closest one to the Warner Brother studio lots).  Martin Sheen, Jane Seymour, and Billy Campbell all stopped in.  Tons of soap opera people who I recognized but couldn't put a name to a face.  It was the "in" place to be in the morning.

When I moved away from Burbank to another part of Los Angeles, the first thing I did was find the closest Starbucks along the commute route from my new place to the office so as not to disturb my morning routine.  Since my move meant I dealt with TONS more traffic, I started making two stops a day -- one drink for the commute in, one for the trip home.

When I moved a second time, I said good-bye to my old store so they would know nothing bad happened to me.  I found a new favorite store and stopped there twice a day.  Starbucks introduced a new syrup -- Dark Cherry -- and for a while I savored a drink that tasted just like the Cella's chocolate covered cherries my Dad bought me as a kid.  When they discontinued the Dark Cherry syrup, the store manager gifted me a bottle because they couldn't sell it any more.  I went back to my peppermint mocha.

And so it went, every morning and most afternoons, for years.  I knew every Starbucks location near every office I visited, every airport I flew through, every highway and byway I traveled living out my life.  I planned my days around Starbucks stops.  A logo cup was a constant accessory to my wardrobe.  My car turned into my regular store each morning practically on auto-pilot.

And then the heart palpitation/SVT incident happened.

Even though I'd never had symptoms pointing to caffeine abuse before, I'd been drinking up to 3 Venti drinks a day trying to keep pace with my busy life.  I never felt as though I "needed" caffeine to function, but I wasn't sure I would have the energy I needed to manage my days without it.  Maybe the heart palpitations were telling me something.   Maybe this was a sign I needed to finally stop.

As I drove into work on the day I eventually landed in the emergency room, I drove past my regular Starbucks and went straight to work.  For the first time on a weekday in almost 12 YEARS, I didn't start my day with a Starbucks cup in my hand.  And even though the caffeine likely had nothing to do with my health scare, I decided to try living without it for a while.  I haven't been back since.

Luckily for me, I haven't had any kind of "withdrawal" symptoms from ending my caffeine intake.  In fact, some real positives came out of the change.  I lost 5 pounds due to the removal of the extra 750 calories a day in my twice-daily drinks.  I'm saving the $2400 a year I used to spend on coffee, which buys A LOT Of hockey tickets.  I haven't lost my energy like I thought I would.  Most of all, I feel good about the decision to remove one major bad habit from my life so I can focus on replacing it with a healthier one.

I have nothing but happy memories of my time with Starbucks and all the wonderful employees that were so kind to me over the years.  But it's kind of like ending a relationship that doesn't work any more.  Your heart tells you when it's the right time to move on.