What is it about the Northeast that couples cars and coffee?
In Boston they give directions with Dunkin Donuts stores as landmarks, in Western New York it's Tim Horton shops. They appear like lawn mushrooms after a rain and stay much longer.
When Starbucks took off and carbs became verboten, both chains pushed their marketing from donuts to coffee.
I, as a lifetime tea drinker who could never even attempt a polite sip of coffee without making a "bad beer" face, would be immune to this type of consumer outreach.
Or so I thought.
The only downside of the much anticipated job offer that came last May from a company which had been a favorite client for more than a year, was the reverse commute.
After tooling around the city for the past few years facing traffic only when I route by the arena on the night of a Sabres game, the idea of spending 13 miles each way on the commuter highways surrounding the city -- and actually having to listen to the radio to adjust my route for accidents brought flashbacks of the Houston years.
Obviously traffic in an established community of one million is nothing like six-million-without-zoning, and the job has far exceeded my greatest hopes.
The new Prius is delivering 50 m.p.h. plus and is a lot of fun to drive. I've got a killer stereo with my favorite NPR and New York Times podcasts downloaded daily and have joined the Bluetooth "talking to my steering wheel" handsfree horde. You'd think I'd be in a very good place.
But something was missing.
A vague uneasiness picked at the edge of my mind. I didn't realize, at first, that the cup holders were taunting me.
It started innocently at the cottage. Every other time we'd come to the Silver Creek Tim Horton's for a Sunday morning sitdown I'd ordered tea, but it was hot outside. And the pictures of the French Vanilla Iced Cappucino stared frostily from the point-of-purchase posters.
I'd never be cool enough to drink Iced Coffee like my French friend Ann on our east coast road trip a few years back, but maybe it would be kinda, sorta close. I was already wearing a lot of black. Maybe I had it in me.
The drink was nectar - a cross between an Icee and a milkshake. Could Gauloises and a 24 inch waistline be next?
OK, so I have asthma and shop on the Big Girl rack - it was still a sensual moment.
It wasn't long before I needed more. Cravings kicked in as I passed others in traffic cradling their brown, beige and red cups. They were in the club. I wanted in. Now.
On autopilot I was rerouting my commute for the anticipatory excitement of the drivethrough.
It is not unusual to have more than 20 cars in the Timmy Ho line up the street on Delaware. If I don't leave the house in time, I have to delay gratification until the last two miles of the trip when I get off the 290 at Niagara Falls Boulvevard.
That used to be the alternate route, but I take it almost every day now.
The other day I took the more direct route back to the city and noticed some new construction on a nearby corner. The building seems to be taking a familiar shape. If there is a drivethrough when they start putting in the windows, I will be in a very happy place.
Sitting down in the neighborhood coffee shop, I still savor Chai Tea Latte, but the driver's seat belongs to Timmy Ho.



Copyright 2007 Judi Griggs