On my first morning in South Beach, I googled Starbucks locations on my iPhone (how anyone lives without one of these is beyond me) and I walked around the block to the nearest venerable institution. If you overlook the palm trees and the sun darting lovely rays on the large patio, it looked just like mine. I ordered my regular venti non fat latte with whole milk foam (a compromise latte of sorts), paid a dollar more than usual for palm tree maintenance, no doubt, and sat on the terrace among the indigenous population and an unusually large number of dogs .
Not one minute after I deployed my stuff on the table (I never travel light even to Starbucks), a guy sitting nearby introduced himself , his friends, and all their pooches. Two minutes later, he was cracking a mildly tasteless joke – something about “hands-on work” (sigh), 5 minutes later he was informing me that his life revolved around making money and making love, and 15 minutes later, I had a new Starbucks family to come home to every morning. Voila!
Bob, Brian, Rich, and Meryl
I was settling in amidst the new compadres when a young guy walked up to the group and asked:
“Hey, can I borrow one of your dogs?”
Now, I thought that sounded a bit strange… until I saw the guy with the borrowed canine walk to the end of the patio, knock on the window which opened 5 seconds later, and get his drink almost immediately… as well as a cookie for the dog. The man had effectively bypassed a very long line of people waiting inside the store.
In light of the dog-thru, several facts appeared under a brand new prism of perception: the reason why so many people brought their dogs to Starbucks, and also the reason why so many dogs seemed so well fed.
In South Beach, if you like coffee and instant gratification, you must own a dog. Here are a few of these lovely Starbucks accessories:
Bentley (no Mike, this is not a Jack Russell! Or if she is, she must have eaten a copious amount of genetically modified dog food!)
Bob’s pooch, Malibu
Kenneth’s and Tom’s lovely Doberman Diesel
Branching out… A non-Starbucks dog on a wall
A very touching Basset Hound
The back of said Basset Hound… in precarious equilibrium
Yorkie transportation on Ocean Drive
And to end my Starbucks post which I segwayed into being about South Beach dogs, the Oscar goes to Alvaro and…
Alvaro’s seven Italian Greyhounds.
Even the dogs are Italian around here!
note to Razz: non Monsieur, don’t you dare sermon me about going to Starbucks in the land of Cuban coffee – after an incursion in Little Havanna and seven Cuban coffees later, I was unable to sleep for a very very long time.