Of Coffee and Crushes

            I became a Starbucks coffee aficionado when, one fateful day two years ago, I was forced to buy one of their special drinks to justify parking my derriere in one of their seats. It was one of their Christmas specials, their Toffee-nut Latte. That was the beginning of a continuing love affair with that most delicious of drinks... veritable ambrosia from Olympus, I swear!

            Now I join the thousands of people who are eagerly counting down the days til Starbucks offers this year’s selection of specials. But unlike the others, who are content to order any random drink as long as they fill up their card with enough stickers to claim the much-coveted planner (which has become a status symbol, it seems), I specifically come to Starbucks for my Toffee-nut Latte.

            If I were a poet, I’d write a poem in the drink’s honor. If I were a composer, I’d have written an art song. If Bach had his Coffee Cantata, I’d come up with a Toffee-nut Latte version.

            “Toffee-nut... toffee-nut... toffee-nut latte muss ich haben!!!” to paraphrase from Lieschen’s aria.

            I love toffee-nut latte so much, I’d drink it every day if I could afford it (and if only it were available the whole year round). To tide me over for most of the year, I make do with a hazelnut latte instead. It is a poor substitute for something so delicious that it’s hard to believe it is man-made, but it’s the closest thing they’ve got to the ideal toffee-nut.

            And I thought ... perhaps falling “in crush”, and becoming infatuated with someone, is pretty much like ordering a hazelnut latte in the absence of toffee-nut. These minor affairs of the heart (and aches of the heart, if you are apt to be a silent admirer like myself) serve as preparation, as enlargement procedures, so that when we finally meet our Intended one, we can love unconditionally, unselfishly, with the breadth and depth spoken of in epic romances. Indeed, one can even go far as to say that these crushes are miniature love affairs by themselves, despite their one-sided orientation. I’ve noticed that, as I grew more mature, I came to “fall in crush” not so much because of the person’s looks, but because of other fine qualities such as kindness, intelligence, and a God-fearing nature. Hmmm... come to think of it, I got teased by those closest and dearest to me for having rather “unattractive” crushes back then! Using conventional standards of physical beauty, of course. To which I always replied with a list of their accomplishments and qualifications... usually a very comprehensive and LONG list, hehe. “Looks may fade but the qualities I hold dear will remain,” quoth I, with a matching melodramatic pose.

            And this is why I cannot condemn the young girl who always has a new “flavour of the month,” if in her girlish infatuation her heart is tutored and enlarged, if in her innocent adulation she loses most of her tomboyish ways and becomes more womanly as she discovers her femininity. Indeed, with each and every new crush, she has a clearer and better idea of the kind of man with whom she will dedicate her life to... to his happiness she will devote every waking hour, to rearing his children she will sacrifice her all.

            “To all the girls I’ve loved before... I dedicate this song,” goes a ballad by Julio Iglesias. Given the sentimental and sappy mood I’m in, I think I’d like to dedicate this blog post “to all the boys I’ve crushed on before.” J (Aside: I use the term “boys” instead of men, and I look forward to the time when I meet them again, maybe a decade or so hence, and see the fine men I’m sure they will become... glimpses of which I was fortunate enough to see, so evident in their youth.)

            Okay, enough with the “emo-ing.” Gotta go and finish off my checking. I’ve got grades to compute and submit by Tuesday.

            *turns resolutely away from the computer*