shawl: vintage from a Texan grandma, leather bag pack: Frye
My go to coffee spot has changed for the last time. I used to sit at a few other cafes and eye the beautiful pastries on display, and order round after round of cafe con leches or cafe dobles. But now, I found a spot that I never thought I would frequent. It’s not for their quality, but for their quantity. I get so much coffee for the amount of Argentine pesos I pay. What is my go to coffee spot? It’s Starbucks, I know, I’m from Austin, TX where homegrown coffee shops grow faster than our grass. Places like Caffe Medici and Houndstooth used to be my go to places, but now that I’m in the land of small servings of coffee, Starbucks is the only place that recognizes my north American needs. I order a Venti cafe americano, which explains my dehydration, and I add a small amount of steamed milk to it. A coffee half the size of my arm for 14 Argentine pesos has changed my life. What’s funny is how many times I go to the same Starbucks in my neighborhood, Palermo Soho, and I order from the same cashiers, but they never get my name right. I even emphasize the “r” in my name by putting the latin style on the pronunciation and sounding it out as, “Charrrrrrrlie.” Then I made a second attempt by making a cultural reference that they could relate to and tied my name to the name of a living rock star legend in Argentina, Charlie Garcia, who is a crazy drug addict and quite the performer. They give me faces of confusion more so as to why I’m named after a drug addicted rock star and not as to why there is a girl in front of them with an english boy’s name. I’ve given up, and I’m fine with the name written on my Venti cup being, “CHALLY.” As long as the waterfalls are actually coffee, I’m fine with being Chally. Thank you Starbucks for satisfying my northern American needs. Hugs and kisses, Chally.