I went down the street to Starbucks at 7pm tonight to get a cinnamon dolce latte, this fabulous new discovery Megan and I made last Wednesday on our weekly date. As I arrived at the store on the corner in downtown Wheaton, I noticed that it was not well lit, and as I pulled on the locked door it became all too clear. They were closed due to some entirely unforeseeable reason. My only information was that there were around a dozen people inside all talking and wearing black shirts (employees?). I was frustrated.
Never fear, I hopped in my car and up Main Street I went to the newish and not-at-all-far-away Geneva Road store, ONLY TO FIND THE SAME SITUATION. The lights were dimmed, but this time when I tried the door, it wasn’t locked. Simultaneously, about 15 inquisitive faces (there were those black shirts again) turned toward me. This time the person that was standing and seemingly in charge apologized and offered me a free cup of brewed coffee. I THINK NOT. I want a dulce latte and I want one now.
I exited, filled with the determination a predatory animal must feel when stalking prey. Stopping at nothing, I decided that desperate times call for driving to the Danada Square store. There’s NO way all Starbucks within 5 miles are closed in the middle of the evening.
3 minutes later, I stood in disbelief, forehead against a glass door, peering into a dark-ish Danada Starbucks full of black-shirted employees, conferencing.
I can see no explanation but this: God will go to great lengths to stop me from having a latte if He so wills.
I also acknowledge this: if my biggest problem in a day is that Starbucks in the greater western suburbs simultaneously close, leaving me without my latte, I am a very privileged girl.