I'd left Starbucks feeling pretty charitable, but when leaving, I figured I was probably supposed to go out the drive-thru, and (of course) was behind someone in an SUV being passed a couple of whipped cream-laden Fraps. That engenders a similar feeling of outrage in me as would seeing someone perform some unspeakable act of sacrilege. Ugh. Compared to that, the Caribou a few blocks down the road seems like a temple of coffee snobbery. Heck, I can't even drink Starbucks' drip without adding half-and-half and honey. (I almost never use sweetener.)
One bugaboo remains: censored Internet. The image here is from a screenshot of what you see if you attempt to access the virtual red-light district. I didn't come here to surf teh pr0n, honest--having learned of Caribou's policies over the last year, though, I was curious to see what kind of message would come up. I see it's gotten more Orwellian. Love that passive voice!
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