in which Bethy finds herself without a local

I you know me at all you will know that I don’t drink. But I do like coffee.  Indeed I have a strange love for Starbucks coffee.

This is my local Starbucks on the corner of Wellfield Road (apologies for the quite awful photo, it’s off my Blackberry and the camera is megapoo)

I say “is” my local. It was until 7pm this evening. Today was the last day that they were open. See those “To Let” signs? My Starbucks is going for good, and they’re not replacing it.

Now, I know lots of people hate Starbucks for being a big evil corporation and will welcome the demise of this store from the high street.  As a rule I am of the same mind when it comes to indie shops. I love independents and will always support local businesses, but Starbucks is my guilty pleasure and this particular Starbucks was something different.

I was chatting to one of the baristas this morning (a lovely French guy, known as Frenchy. How original) and he was saying that he had no plans to move to another store in town because he loved the sense of community that the Wellfield shop had. And he’s right. All the staff are so friendly, the shop even has regulars. Hell – I’m a regular!

This is so annoying. On the walk home (with my double-tall, skinny suger-free hazelnut latte) I had this whole post in my head. It was really good too. I’m getting really frustrated with my memory at the moment. I forget everything. Not going to tweet a link to this post, it’s crap.

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