A word on legal, addictive stimulants.

A cozy arm-chair, window seat, rain or shine, low murmurs from ongoing conversations, “artsy” music playing in the background, the sound of beans grinding and the smell of fresh brews, laptop open but ignored, industrial furniture, green walls against brick, local photography, “Number 31!”—Life frozen for a few peaceful moments as I stare out the window at those whose life continues on.

This is what I think of when I hear the word, “coffee.”

I automatically envision myself sitting at one of my favorite cafés, Prince St. or Folklore, with a specially designed mocha in hand. These memories do not contain life-altering events that plague my memory, rather they are remembered fondly—full of solitude in the city, good music, inspiration, and a fresh cup o’ Joe.

Maybe it’s getting go to be that time of the semester, but this week I’ve been mulling over the logic behind coffee…a lot. Granted, I have to give a presentation on the “Philosophy behind Starbucks” for a Marketing class, but regardless, you literally can’t get away from the stuff! 

Coffee makers have become a necessity on the Wedding Registry. There is at least one Starbucks in every major location (with the exception of Upper Wisconsin) and independent cafes scattered in between. There are not one, but three coffeemakers in my office. Businesses lure people in with the notion of coffee. And even upon thinking of coffee, a certain setting comes to mind as I mentioned above. There is the exception of a few coffee-cynicists, though I believe that most freshman who were avidly against coffee have converted by now.

As I have “mulled” this over in passing thoughts, I’ve realized that coffee isn’t what people typically think it is. Let’s face it; excluding baristas and coffee snobs, most people—including myself—have not mastered the perfect cup, making most of us amateurs that consistently drink coffee overloaded with creamer and/or sugar or merely rely on the local café to meet their caffeine needs. 

Of course, coffee is good—really good. If I need to stay awake, extra shot of espresso. But mostly I purely enjoy the bold, well-flavored taste of a freshly ground brew. We can argue over best methods—French press, K-cup, Chemex, drip. We can argue over which bean—freshly ground, Starbucks locally roasted. We can argue over which café or mug or whatever you will, but at the end of the day—we have to agree the end result is our preferred cup of good coffee.

But I’ve been realizing that good coffee goes way deeper than just the taste or make—that the mentality that Starbucks has been pushing for so long, has rooted deeply within the nature of humanity. 

Coffee is an experience.

For me, when I think of coffee—I imagine my favorite moments with coffee in hand. I rarely much about the coffee other than it was probably good at the time—but I always remember the feeling, the ambiance, the day dreams, the atmosphere. And that is the only reason it’s memorable and that I go back for more. Whether treating myself to a study session at the café or sipping from my favorite mug during morning devotions or the travel mug in class—there is an addictive sensation about the act of drinking coffee.

Whether you’re the barista, the coffee snob, the person who associates with the coolness of drinking coffee but never actually drinks it, or the in-between—there is a personal connection to the thought of coffee, much like Thanksgiving or Christmas, which keeps us addicted. Though I like to think of it as a good addiction. 

Thanks a lot, Starbucks.