“Dear” Howard D. Schultz,

My sisters and I have recently realized that we’re victims of Starbucks Stockholm Syndrome, that psychological disorder in which hostages grow to love their captors, despite the terrible behavior of the captors (you know, the lies both grand and tiny, the threats, realized and unfulfilled, the guns, er, steam wands). At first we were terrified of you and your Corporation, but then we grew to love you. In fact, like Charlie Manson’s Gals, we became missionaries for you, serving your products at home, admiring your little Christmas decorations, insisting to friends with better taste that they meet us at your joints.

But then we had an epiphany. We understand, now, that we’re like Amy Winehouse with the pipe when it comes to our coffee: We just can’t put down our cups. And unfortunately, because we’re equally addicted to convenience, and you’ve made ubiquity your life’s work, we haven’t been able to stay away from Starbucks. You’re The Man on every corner, and we’re hostage-addicts who’ve been willing participants in our own abuse, just so we can get our easy fix. And abuse it is, on a broad spectrum, killing like a powerful antibiotic, as though The Corporation is determined to lower our standards and inure us to high prices, to indifferent counter help, to laissez-faire Baristas/Partners, to execrable baked goods, to mind-numbing interior décor.

Howard, we know you’re aware that Consumer Reports has tapped McDonald’s coffee better than Starbucks’ drip. CR’s panel of “trained testers” described Starbucks’ brew as “strong, but burnt and bitter enough to make your eyes water instead of open.” It’s no wonder Starbucks stock dropped fifty percent in 2007, or that shortly after the new year, you laid off six hundred employees and announced the closing of one hundred stores.

Still, we believed you when you said change was at hand, when you closed all stores last month for a nationwide re-training, lovingly described in Transformation Agenda Communication #8. Yep, things have changed at Starbucks, all right: They’ve gotten worse (the lines, the f*ckd up drinks, the hostile Baristas…). The only thing that’s true about your newly posted door signs–which proclaim that you have “The best espresso in the neighborhood”–is that you’ve noticed the Big Culture trend of Americans considering strip malls to be “neighborhoods.”

Even our fave Starbucks location in West Hollywood, conveniently located at the intersection of Santa Monica Boulevard and Cock Drive, and loaded with very theatrical gayboys with whom we have Personal Relationships, has recently suffered grave setbacks on all fronts. So now we’re pretty sure we’ve hit bottom, and are ready for a good long Starbucks kicking stint at Cirque Lodge. We’re looking to Get Our Lives Back, to pee clean into the sample cups.

So, Howard, before we trot off to our glam-spa vacation in Rehab, we’re going to save you millions of dollars in Re-Training and Consultant Fees, with a list of things you need to do in order to maintain your vise-grip on other Addicts. Think of it as our parting gift, something to remember us by. Think to yourself I was loved, once, and gloriously….

1. The Addict Is Always Right. This basic tenet of retail has been lost in the Starbucks Culture. The Addict is always right even if she has what comedian George Carlin calls an Asshole Order, along the lines of “Triple tall half-cafe 180 degree 2 percent sugar free extra carmel macchiato with three pumps vanilla and chocolate syrup drizzle.” You’ve trained most of America into your meta-speak of calling small Tall, you’ve even invented a new word for large, so listen when Addicts babble at you in your own tongue, and follow this simple rule: The Addict is Always Right, Therefore You Should Get The Order Right. It’s kind of a bastardization of Descartes: Coffee, ergo sum. Take this as your new motto.

2. Stop The Counter Chit-Chat other than to enhance or clarify the order. You’ve threatened that engaging the Addict is going to be a new policy: NO. DON’T DO IT. The Addict isn’t there to see the staff, the Addict is there because because he’s jonesing for a fix and needs it right now. In no instance is this a good time to engage in chit-chat. And if you’re lucky, there’s a whole line of Addicts waiting for their fixes, and you’re only alienating them more by making them wait. If further alienation is even possible, at this point….

3. Foam. Learn it, know it, love it. An Addict should never be able to make better foam than a Barista. An Addict should never have the urge to leap over the counter and take control of the steam wand and milk pitcher. Any idiot can press the button that makes the espresso, and the Addict could be doing this at home. But foam’s another story. Everybody behind the counter should be able to make foam that stands at attention like a good little soldier. An “extra foam” latte should have at least two fat inches of hard foam hiding the espresso (even though ten inches is considered industry standard minimum…oh, wait, wrong industry…).

4. Food. Get some actual baked goods, rather than the cheap kitchen re-model fibre board you’ve been peddling. Go with local providers, instead of the trucked-in, dried-out, dubious-ingredients stuff. Make the baked goods irresistible. And while you’re at it, make sure Addicts never see the Partners cleaning out the pastry case with the floor vacuum and Windex.

5. Hygiene. Learn it, know it, love it. How many times have we turned on our expensive heels and walked right back out the door because some pinwheel behind the counter is coughing up a lung? We’ve often felt we were in Outbreak or, worse, 28 Days Later. Ridiculous! If a Partner is foolish enough to show up ill, it needs to be Company Policy to send the pinwheel home. And Hand Hygiene: Teach everybody behind the counter not to touch face, nose, eyes, mouth. And when this occasionally happens, wash hands immediately. Three year-olds in daycare are taught this. If a cough or sneeze must come out right there in front of the Addicts, teach Partners to cough/sneeze into a crooked elbow, then disappear into the back room to “take care of things” and wash hands.

6. Interior Design. Get some. It’s not the mid-90’s any more. Enough with the half-hidden, “arty,” multi-culti, broken thoughts and profound quasi-message murals full of map points, drama masks, pens, and other ephemera. Not only is this a tired aesthetic, but Addicts’ attention spans have changed profoundly since this chaotic dreck showed up as a substitute for actual design. Your Addicts want a place that’s soothing and calm, the better to feel the delish jolts of expensive caffeine.

And the cluttered gift shop shelving? Get rid of the merchandise that says “Starbucks.” At home, no one wants to be reminded of what certain financial advisors calls the “Latte Factor”–that they’re spending 5 x $3.75 /4 x a month x 12 months = $900 (minimum) on coffee-to-go. Addicts will buy the cute cups and accessories that reflect the season and the holidays, even without the Corporate Logo. Replace with some more tables and chairs.

7. Wifi. Get a clue. WiFi should be free, for heaven’s sake (like clues!). The Haphazard Gourmet Girls are rarely more gleeful than when sitting in a Starbucks and scoping free WiFi from the joint next door, while declining the onscreen pop-up boxes that keep insisting we join TMobile now, for $10.99 a day (or as we like to call it, The Starbucks Bendover). Though there’s about to be two hours of free WiFi per day for those who (are stupid enough to, considering its APR) hold the Starbucks Credit Card, this is small potatoes compared to the rest of the coffee universe–read, “independents”–who have offered Free Wifi for years. And guess what? Panera Bread and McDonalds, who rival Starbucks in coffee taste, both offer Free Wifi.

8. Turn The Music Down. Despite its best efforts, Starbucks is not–and will never be–a taste-maker. And again, get out of the ’90s: CD’s are sooo last decade. Howard, you need to believe your own new signs: “Life happens over coffee.” Turn down the music so your Addicts don’t have to shout at each other. And maybe the Cashiers will, while playing “Telephone” with the Baristas and transmitting orders, get drinks correct, if they can hear each other.

9. Clovers are good luck. Stop “test marketing” this machine and use it in all your outlets. Even the Addicts who now have palates accustomed to a commodified espresso experience will appreciate the Clover difference. It’s just better. Every Junkie knows that, even on their least caffeinated day.

Howard, it’s a simple list, really. But it’s going to change The Company profoundly. So have a good stiff latte and march Onward, as you say in your own Transformation Communication Agenda….

Kiss kiss kiss and

Chow!

Cupcake Haphazard