Starbucks As My First Place

I just went through training to become a barista at Starbucks.

During training we discuss the idea of Starbucks as a “third place” in the lives of its customers. The general idea is that people have a “first place” (home), a “second place” (work), and, Starbucks proposes, it can be your “third place.”

I love this theory, I really do. As a partner I hope to cultivate a kind, welcoming, and inclusive community that makes people feel at home in our cafe.

Starbucks is not my third place, though. Starbucks is my first place– Starbucks is my home. At least, what I conceptualize as home.

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Here is an excerpt from a paper I wrote for AP Lit & Comp my senior year of high school. I like to think I have grown as a writer (and a person) since then, but many of my beliefs I write about in this paper remain the same.

I have been known to sit at Mean Mug from open to close. They used to have a couch. One day, I was wearing a dress and I sat on that couch for several hours and the next morning I woke up with welts all on my legs. I went to the doctor and they said that a bug had bit me. I called Mean Mug and told them that, and now they don’t have a couch anymore. Sad day.

Anyhow, I wrote a poem, titled “An Ode to My Favorite Coffee Shop.”

“My soul feels most at home in the homey space of the coffee shop

People milling about, reminding you that you are not alone

Music playing softly, reminding you that there is beauty in this world, it coexists with the pain

My soul seeks solace in the warm recesses of the coffee shop

Thawing, from the inside out

Surrounded by strangers more comfortable than family

And what is family, anyhow?

And what is a home, anyhow?

Could it all be right here, in this coffeehouse?

“You’re safe here” a gentle whisper echoes in my ear, reminding me that I am okay, for a time.

It may be stretching it, but I do wonder how we define “home.” My home is not a “safe” place. I put safe in quotes because the important thing is that I am not being physically abused, which is something that I do not take for granted and is something that I am immensely grateful for. I’m definitely better able to cope with my home life better than I was in middle school, which was a rough time.”

  • 12th Grade Lauren McNeese

Yes, I love coffee. But this place is not just about coffee.

What would you say if I told you Starbucks saved me, in a way?

You’d say I was crazy, right?

Well, I can’t argue with you there.

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One time I was struggling with suicidal ideation and I was at Starbucks and someone left a note on my table that said Jesus loves me.

One time I got out of intensive EMDR and drank venti iced London fogs and cried my eyes out in a safe space.

One time I was about to hurt myself, but I followed my handy-dandy Stanley Brown safety plan and changed my environment, going to a Starbucks.

Many times I went to Starbucks for a venti iced chai on Chai-Day-Friday, to celebrate victory over a difficult week.

One time I was on a distressing phone call and one of the baristas looked at me with a concerned look while making a drink, gave me a thumbs up, and waited for me to signal back that I was okay before continuing to make the drink.

One time I went on a date with someone who drank a trenta chocolate cream cold brew before kissing me. Always drink a trenta chocolate cream cold brew before kissing me.

Many times I went to Starbucks after an early-morning workout and got a tall mocha with almond milk and light whip for Mocha Monday.

One time I asked the barista for a free drink after going through a break up and they gave me a discount.

I have cried, I have laughed, I have grieved, I have grown, and I have lived inside the walls of many Starbucks cafes.

Starbucks is where I go when I need a respite from the real world. Inside these walls, you are safe. Inside these walls, nothing can hurt you.

I have created beautiful poems, essays, blog posts, and books inside of these walls. I have grown closer to friends, grown closer to Jesus, grown closer to myself over a coffee with a pen and paper.

This morning I am manic and need a space to go chill and self-soothe– Starbucks is providing that safe haven, and I am so thankful.

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Starbucks gets a bad rap, it really does. It is fast-paced and, to some people, does not provide the same local coffee shop vibe. Personally, I hear this and I call bullshit. I will literally die on this hill.

No, Starbucks is not a local coffee shop. And I would argue there is something immensely soothing and comforting about the fact that you can be back at your hometown catching up with a friend over a Pike and hours away from that location at a Vanderbilt Starbucks while your sister is having heart surgery and drinking a Pike. Same drink, same environment, same safe people and same safe space. It’s familiar, and as humans we crave familiarity.

The last coffee shop I worked at had a meeting in which the boss said adamantly “We’re not Starbucks.” He meant it as a criticism of Starbucks, but I took it as a criticism of the restaurant he had just opened. We’re not Starbucks? That’s a damn shame. We should be Starbucks! Let’s get some of that energy up in this joint!

Anyway… What he meant was that we needed to go initiate conversations with our customers and build relationships with every soul that stepped inside of the building. We would be told to go check on the same person every couple of minutes, and, truly, I felt bad for doing that. Sometimes people need to be left the fuck alone. Sometimes people need to be around people without being around people. I know I do. This tiny, seemingly insignificant comment just didn’t sit right with me.

Notice I don’t work at that coffee shop anymore.

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I can take a lot of words to get places, but here is what I would like to share this morning:

Yes, to some people Starbucks is a third place.

But what if you are exploring what home means? What if you didn’t feel safe at home?

There are safe spaces in this world, and you don’t have to look far.

Maybe all you need to look for

Is the little green mermaid.

Shameless plug

For the little green mermaid.

Cheers,

To the little green mermaid.

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Lauren McNeese I Writer I Coffee Addict

I'm passionate about telling stories--my stories, other peoples' stories, made-up stories... It's what we are made of.