When I moved into a tiny room bisected by a giant column, just off Shoe Lane, near the pedestrian mall in Oxford, England where Radiohead was discovered, I swore up and down that I would never darken the door of the Starbucks around the corner. And for the first three months I didn't. But after weeks of slinging pints at night to a rough crowd at a pub well off the radar of the ivory tower-dwellers, hours of pouring over obscure Augustine writings in the silence-only library, and negotiating the inevitable drama of living with a bunch of 21-year-olds in a foreign country, I needed a taste of home. The mediocre, sugar-heavy beverages were just as I remembered them. Bless those franchise agreements, negotiated down to the syrup measurements.
All that to say that while I initially scoff at press releases like this one, announcing Sbux's first store in Buenos Aires, Argentina. In the not-too-distant future this new little piece of home is going to be the best thing that ever happened to a kid doing a South America year abroad.