A salted caramel mocha iced frappe at Starbucks sounded so yummy. When Julie and I go for our twice weekly early morning power walks we both always have the same thing — a grande iced coffee with soy milk, unsweetened please. Maybe it was time to shake things up a bit?
Salted caramel is the new heath bar crunch. It’s everywhere. I’m happy to report that BTO Yogurt even has the hip new flavor. The onslaught of college girls must like it too. But I digress.
The “new” combo of three of the tastiest flavors on Earth was four bucks. Waiting in line I was tempted. When it was my turn to order I quickly changed my mind, reverting to the usual. But I didn’t keep it to myself.
“Gee, that salted caramel espresso drink really sounds good,” I said to Julie. “But I’ll just have my iced coffee,” I announced, smiling at the cashier.
The Starbucks ingenue had a scrunched-up face, a ponytail pulled too tight and wore glasses (I have nothing against glasses). Instead of telling the mixer-upper guy what I wanted, she left the line of customers and walked over to him. Even more curious, she whispered in his ear. I don’t think he was her boyfriend.
“Why’d she go over there to tell him what I ordered?” I asked Julie, who shrugged. Hmm…this was curious. Was I so bad that she told him about me?
“See that woman who’s complaining about the price of our wowy-wow new salted caramel frappe? Pour a bunch of sugar in her iced coffee although she requested no sweetener,” I imagined her saying. Julie and I walked over to the pick-up counter to get our drinks.
“I’m making you a sample of our new salted caramel mocha espresso frappe,” the young man told us. “I’ll split it in half so you can both have some. How does that sound?”
“Sure,” Julie nodded politely.
“Thanks,” I blurted, waving feebly to the cashier.
“Have an awesome day!” she beseeched us.
Julie and I each walked out with both our hands full. An icy thick coffee drink half filled with whipped cream, drizzled with caramel, in one hand — something totally new — and our usual stimulant in the other hand.
I was flummoxed. What to do with two drinks? We had to stop walking and concentrate. I hadn’t planned to slurp the whipped cream, but I did, every drop of super-caloried goodness.
We resumed our typical fast-paced walktalk. “Did you get brain freeze?” Julie asked. “Yup,” I told her, “I did. This sure is a different kind of day.”