The first step is admitting you have a problem

I have to admit it.  I’m an addict.  I dream about this stuff; I can’t go a morning without its icy goodness sliding down my throat.

I’m talking, of course, about the Starbucks Iced Chai Tea Latte.

A thing of beauty, isn't it?
A thing of beauty, isn’t it?

I know some of you can’t relate to this; some of you are, UNIMAGINABLY, addicted to the Pumpkin Spiced Latte, or the Caramel Macchiato (you know who you are), or even the Cinnamon Dolce (yeah, Mom, I judge you), but for me it’s all about that sweet, sweet Chai.  And not that Oprah shit, either: I’m talking about the real, original Starbucks chai tea latte chock full of unnecessary sugar, with non-fat milk only (2% takes away from the sugary-ness).  And it has to be ICED.  Why would I get it hot?  What am I, some kind of monster?  Of course, actual chai is supposed to be prepared hot, like it is in India, but I’m not some mindless sheep who does things just because that’s how they do it in India.  God.  Screw you, society.  You don’t own me.  You can’t make me drink Chai authentically, even if I do live in San Francisco.

I recognize that some of you may not even be addicted to a Starbucks drink at all.  I salute you, if so – you are a stronger person than I am.  You will be the among those who survive when the End Times begin.  I trust you are up to the task of perpetuating the human race.

Ahem.  Anyways.

So I know I have a problem.  A big one.  For God’s sake, it’s not even chai drinks in general that I have to have – it’s Starbucks, and only Starbucks, chai that has me in its icy, milky, slightly-spicy grip.  Nothing else does it for me.  Not Peet’s, or Dunkin, or your local organic non-GMO gluten-free coffee shop chai – only Starbucks.

What do you put in it, Starbucks?  Is it crack?  Unicorn tears?  Do you have a pagan priestess on-call to bless every cup so it tastes like the nectar of the goddess, but with a slight touch of caffeine?  Do you know the power of what you have here?  You could start and end wars with this stuff.  This is the drink that launched a thousand ships, or at least a thousand diabetes diagnoses.

I know I have to stop, but my God, I just can’t.  Each one is, like, 300 calories.  That’s equivalent to breakfast!  “Jackie,” you might be saying to your computer screen right now, “why don’t you just have one instead of breakfast, then?”  HA!  You think I haven’t tried this?  You think I haven’t downed a venti iced chai at 8 am only to be starving by nine?  You think I haven’t then RETURNED to Starbucks for a scone?  (Their scones are great, too; I recommend the vanilla).

It’s ok, though.  I can beat this thing.  The first step is admitting you have a problem, right?  What’s the second step – apologizing to people you hurt?  Ok, come join me at Starbucks so I can apologize to you, I’ll buy us a couple of iced chais and – DAMN IT.

Whatever.  I give up.  Pray for me.

3 thoughts on “The first step is admitting you have a problem”

  1. I’ve tried making these at home. Several times. And after one sip, each and every one of them have been slam dunked into the trash. Starbucks all the way.


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