Red cups; a marketing genius by the evil empire Starbucks. Actually, I would like to hate Starbucks and there 4 dollar cups of legal addictive stimulants but I just have to admit that they got me and I surrendered to the ridiculously overpriced but oh-so fabulous lattes, at least when I had the option of buying one. My brother worked for them and they are actually a pretty giving and socially responsible company that treats their workers well so even though an addiction to the ‘bucks may eventually cause you to mortgage your home they are ok
in my book. And I miss those red cups, apparently a lot. As long time readers of this blog may know neither Jason or myself ever used to drink coffee until Miss early riser came into our lives
. Now sadly we need it to function some days. So all you who are reading this stateside and can run out (probably after you dig your car out from under the snow and put on 12 layers) to your neighborhood friendly Starbucks I am apparently holding animosity towards you, at least that is what my recent dream may suggest. In any case please enjoy a red cup for me before they are gone until next year.
I had a dream, it was only a dream…… Jason called me from town (as he does many days to report an outage of some food item I needed or to tell me why he will be late and many days these sentences begin “Rox, you are not gonna believe what I just saw…”). Back to my dream…he said “Rox, you will not believe it!! They opened at Starbucks in town and I am there now.” After explaining to me the location and telling me what he was ordering I was thrilled. Never mind that everyone apparently spoke English and there is no way any American chain would ever open here because safety & quality standards would never be met. None of that mattered or occurred to my asleep self, I commanded him to purchase me a peppermint mocha (apparently in my dream it was not 1,000 degrees like it is everyday and I actually WANTED a hot beverage) and return home quickly. I waited at home, I paced outside trying to explain in Kiswahili to my neighbors what my husband was bringing home. Then I heard the car round the corner and beep the horn. He pulled in with a local friend and they got out of the car; no red cup, notta. I immediately inquired, ok, hollered at him “where is mine?” to which he unapologetically replied “Oh, sorry I forgot to get you one.” What followed was nothing short of a marriage crisis.
I awoke and immediately relayed this dream to Jason who responded by asking me if I really think he is a horrible person. I said of course not but then the memory came rushing back. The memory that may have triggered this dream. The memory of his red cup infidelity.
Every year we would wait in anticipation for the appearance of the red cups at Starbucks and we always promised each other once they emerged we would walk down to our Roger’s Park store and share our first red cups of the season together. It was sort of a tradition, however pathetic; an ushering in of the Christmas season if you will. Well, last year I remember the very day they debuted. I was carrying Anni to tumbling class and saw one, two, no twelve Mamas walking along with red cup in hand. I knew that I had to show self control and wait for Jason and even after a rough morning with Annikah I still remained true to our pact. He arrived home and we picked him up from the Metra as usual and announced with excitement “tis the season for red cups.” He responded “yeah, I know.” But it was not a simple acknowledgment, it was as if he was hiding something, something terrible. I inquired more as to the source of his new knowledge and he finally came with the news that he had enjoyed one at work with friends without me. Now, I think there was some justification involved like someone brought him one or they all went together and someone treated but to me it was pure red cup infidelity. After some apologies and negotiations of me being allowed to buy 2 whatever day I wanted that week we had a good laugh about the situation. So after being reminded of that story I realized that is where my dream must have come from, of all the important issues in life my subconscious is holding onto that memory. Poor Jason, I hold onto to everything. He proved his undying coffee loyalty to me again last week by treating me to a coffee in town before we picked up Annikah from school as an early Christmas treat. I’ll keep you posted if a Starbucks opens here, somehow I doubt it.