I want my $3.25!

Unless you are a child of the '80s, the above title will mean absolutely nothing to you. It references one of my all-time, favorite '80s movies "Better Off Dead" with John Cusack (still yummy after all these years...*sigh*). One of the characters is a newspaper delivery boy who chases down John Cusack's character on his bike when John is unable to pony-up the $2 for the monthly newspaper fee. The kid chases John around chanting "I want my $2! I want my $2!" Believe me, it's a much funnier scene that what I've been able to reiterate. I'm not known for my recounting of tales...

But I digress. I have a love/hate relationship to Starbucks. I love going. I love the fresh coffee and pastry smell, the earthy decor, the comfy chairs, the wide variety of choices. But, I hate paying $3.25 for my tall, 1.5 pump, no-whip mocha of which I only drink about 1/2. Why only half? Because in my efforts to shed my multiple layers of fat, I can't bring myself to drink all the chocolate that settles to the bottom, so I dump it. Yup. I dump a daily $1.50 or so down the drain. Literally. My intelligent self knows that I would not get "The sharpest crayon in the box" award for this action, but I can't seem to keep myself from going. I keep telling myself that I'm going for the experience. Yes. The experience of Starbucks. It calls me back each day with an audible "I want my $3.25!!" I must not be the only one who hears it's beckoning call either. The line at the drive-thru always wraps around the parking lot.