The Great Coffee Cup Heist
Whilst I am painfully aware that ordering a Caramel Macchiato at Starbucks costs the equivalent of a modest three-bedroomed bungalow, I must confess a certain love for their exorbitantly priced beverages.The cup I present today relates to an incident in which, quite flagrantly flying in the face of the law and common decency, I found a way to celebrate my love of Starbucks, and simultaneously deprive them of a miniscule amount of profits in the form of goods.
One afternoon, I was browsing a BORDERS bookstore, one of those splendid establishments that boasts not only a plethora of paperbacks and periodicals, but also an “in-house” Starbucks coffee shop. The aroma overwhelms you as you leaf through a weighty tome, and it is almost unheard of to depart the bookstore without a caffeine fix, third world debt notwithstanding. However, on this particular day, I was leafing rather hurriedly, as I was ready to answer natures call. Returning the book to the shelf, I made for the rest rooms. The door swung open as I entered the empty conveniences.
There it was, sat on the side of the sink; the dregs of someone’s favourite latte in the bottom…a Starbucks Classic Coffee Mug! I believe they’ll reluctantly part with one if you give them around Six English pounds. Now, having starved for my art, I could live for about a week on six pounds, so the chances of me parting with it in exchange for such a receptacle, as nice as it is, were slim. I looked quickly around; I was still alone. Abandoning principle, morality, and probably God, I grabbed the cup and washed the dregs away, stuffing the mug into my shoulder bag. My heart raced. Could I leave the building unmolested? Was this really stealing, or could I get off on a technicality? Could I assume the washroom was like Switzerland, steadfastly neutral?
I left the sanctuary of the washroom, and, step by measured step, made my way out of the bookstore to freedom…I had done it!
The mug was mine! Mine I tell you!
Starbucks, Eat my shorts!