Metro Man: My Addiction

My name is Jerry. I am an addict.

I know admitting one’s addiction is the first step in controlling it in many 12-step programs. But I have no intention of changing my ways. No, my addiction is not alcohol, prescription or illegal drugs, food, cigarettes, gambling, the Internet or sex – it’s Starbucks.

It’s not an especially expensive “habit” as addictions go. Still, it costs me about $100 a month with a “hit” of nonfat grande latte going for $3.51. I buy a card each month with enough credit so I’m not reminded of the price per cup. Why would anyone pay that much for a cup of coffee?

I wasn’t an early fan of Starbucks. I disliked their neutering the goddess logo by removing her bare breasts in response to the more prudish among us.

When Starbucks went public 15 years ago, a friend mentioned he had bought some shares of their stock. My unsolicited response was I didn’t think it would be a success because a ubiquitous chain of coffee shops would never fly. Coffeehouses needed to be unique, personal environments reflecting the personality of their owners.

So much for my ability as a stock picker – a business I was in for years. A $10,000 investment made in 1992 in Starbucks is now worth $650,000.

It’s difficult to get to my Starbucks. There is no drive-through window and parking is almost non existent. So why are people lined up to the door in the morning and why do I have this irresistible urge to head there?

Every morning at 6 a.m., rain or cold, I roll out of bed, suit up, and with my wire-haired Jack Russell Terrorist, Bo, on a leash, I head for Starbucks two blocks away at Peachtree and 17th streets. Before I leave home I get the morning paper, juice, and make coffee for my wife. That’s a ritual that gives me pleasure. Starbucks is a compulsion.

The answer is not the coffee. I can make as good a cup of coffee with my little gizmo that makes warm milk frothy. It’s the “experience.”

I like the fact when I walk in the door they know my name and what I want. Lisa, who gets up at 4 a.m. to drive from Cumming, always greets me with a smile and a bit of friendly conversation. The same goes for Fred, the manager, and all the baristas who work behind the counter—Jack, Lewis, Kacie, Dina, Eleni, Kelly, Bouchee and Amy. Compare that to the surly, sullen or silent reception you often get from the minimum-wage convenience store clerk when you pay for your Styrofoam cup of coffee laced with a powdered creamer.

There’s a certain camaraderie among all the other regular addicts as well. There is Tab, the lawyer who drives in from Alpharetta; Zim, who lives in LaGrange but has a pied a terre at the Reid House; Dr. Able, a psychologist who specializes in addictions and knows about these kinds of things; and Chris, the plumber, who has just started his own business.

The ambiance of the place adds to the experience as well. I can settle into a comfortable chair, read free copies of the papers, enjoy the background music and WiFi on the Internet if I so chose. Plus, they are always passing out free samples of their food and beverages. In pleasant weather I can join Bo on the patio where he serves as “chick bait” for attractive females.

The caring attitude of Starbucks extends beyond their customers and employees or “partners” as they are known. Even the occasional homeless who find their way in are treated with dignity and respect. And Starbucks reaches out to the community. Just this week Fred provided coffee and pastries for a meeting of the Ansley Park Beautification Foundation.

My addiction seems to be becoming everyman’s addiction. There are now more than 100,000 Starbucks partners and it seems the man on the street is more often than not holding a cup of coffee in his hand. I’m sure Starbucks is not the only place that serves up an experience as well as a cup of coffee. I hope your day starts like mine somewhere.