It is not often that I admit publicly that I am, after all, human. That I, like many of you, have shortcomings and perhaps even a foible or two. The difference between my foibles and most of those possessed by other people is that my foibles are cute, often cuddly, and always scented like a delightful cucumber-melon body wash.
Still, even as I am equipped with the knowledge that I am susceptible to shortcomings, I was somewhat surprised this afternoon when, while out and about, I accepted the cheerful offer for a free sample of what I think was called a raspberry frappuccino from a Starbucks representative outside the 62nd and Broadway store. Her tray was home to about a dozen and a half little Solo cups (yes, I checked the bottom of the cup later, because I am a snob about these things) with miniature versions of the Starbucks signature green straws poking out of them. She sunnily asked if I wanted one, and I, doing quick calculations in my head, decided that, yes, I could accept this offer. This offer I could accept. Accept I offer could this!
“Carol Ann,” I told myself, “you’re taking one!”
Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Uhm, your name isn’t Carol Ann. And aren’t you, like, a vegan or something?”
Well, yes. On both counts. But sometimes I like to live on the edge, kids. I like to grab the bull by the horns, pull his broad head toward my lipglossed (MAC Viva Glam VI) kisser, and plant one on his snout. And that’s what I did today. Threw caution to the wind, grabbed horns and kissed snout, and, just before I started flying by the seat of my pants, told myself it was okay that the concoction was topped with something whipped and creamy and thus not anywhere near vegan. I mean, really, how could I resist the allure and lure of something so cute and jaunty? Answer: I could not. And did not.
What makes this entire episode even more earth-shattering is that I have been known, on more than 65 occasions, to rail against fattening coffee drinks, and on at least twice as many occasions, against Starbucks itself. I will not go into all the reasons for the latter railing, because they are probably the “usual” complaints that you have no doubt read on many bloggy anti-Starbucks manifestos. But since I did not have to set foot inside the actual establishment, and it was (and is) such a nice day and my hair came out particularly good today, I decided to avail myself of the offer.
And let me tell you, kids, it was so damned good. But as good as it was, it did not put my own home-brewed iced coffee concoction to shame. So although I succumbed today, my lapse was a one-time only event, and, never fear, I am back on the vegan wagon.