'Tis the season

Now, I *hate* the early arrival of Christmas. The sight of a Christmas tree in a shop in October or November makes my blood boil. You don't know how often I've had to suppress the urge to pick it up and beat it against something like Basil Fawlty. The one aspect of early Christmas that I do enjoy, though, is the arrival of Starbucks' festive beverages - specifically gingerbread lattes.

During one of my daily visits to Secret Starbucks last week I was given a sneak preview of this year's red cup (nice) and promised that I could have a gingerbread latte one day ahead of all the regular civilians that frequent the store. This gave me a happy, which I openly displayed with some special clapping and excited jumping. Sadly, however, upon swinging by on the day of promised advance gingerbread latte, the member of staff who'd made the offer was nowhere to be seen and no one else would honour her promise, so I had to make do with a misto and a massive sulk.

But then, yesterday: UNMITIGATED JOY.

Basically I got into work ridiculously early in a surprisingly successful attempt to miss the maddening traffic that would undoubtedly ensue as a result of a tube strike, so I was in Hammersmith just before eight. The thought of actually starting work that early was utterly terrifying, so instead of going to the office I carried straight on down to Hammersmith high street and into a Starbucks.

"Can I have a gingerbread latte," I asked the lovely barista.

"No," she said, before smiling and saying "ha ha, of course you can."

I was *this* close to saying something along the lines of "bitch, please; you do not joke about that sort of thing," but I behaved myself and just chuckled along with her.

Anyway, because it was the first day of festive beverages, I decided to treat myself and go venti, and so, two minutes later I'm confronted with a towering vat of fresh coffee, sickeningly overpowering gingerbread syrup, and whipped cream. I almost needed to sit down to let my visible arousal subside gather myself, but instead, and much to the horror of the other customers, I jauntily wished the barista a Merry Christmas and skipped out the door.

Cutting to the chase, it was awesomely amazing. And I love this year's cup design (although maybe not so much when Yazzle Dazzle reads the words on it out to me in a patronising fashion that makes me look like a complete and utter speshul).

I am slightly curious as to why Starbucks chose to put Joey's massive porcelain dog from Friends on the new red cup, though.

Any-hoo, so one thing I'd not banked on was the slightly odd effect my first syrup-fuelled latte in 12 months would have on me. Basically I had a bit of a funny turn, put the cardboard sleeve that goes around the cup on my wrist…

…and started strutting around the office, crossing my arms and shouting "WONDER WOMAAAAAAAN!" a bit like Darth Vader Stewie in Something, Something, Something, Dark Side.

You'd think I would've learnt my lesson after that, dear friends, but alas no; I had another gingerbread latte at lunchtime, and another one at around nine o'clock in the evening. I was turfed out of Starbucks in Westfield when they closed, at which point I staggered about like a drunk demanding to be let back into a pub. Oh, the shame.

But hey: IT'S CHRISTMAS!