As I entered Starbucks, a place where I have been plenty of times before, I grew anxious. I looked around me. Nearly all the seats were taken, so I couldn’t experience my new drink order here.
Thankfully, the line was long enough for me to regain my composure. Pumpkin Spice Latte, Pumpkin Spice Latte, Pumpkin Spice Latte. PSL, PSL, PSL. I thought I might forget the name if I don’t repeat it like a mantra over 10 times. As the people in front of me quickly continued forward, I looked around to see if I would run into anyone I know. I didn’t want anybody to know I was going to get a PSL. I didn’t want anybody to think I was “basic.”
Confession time: I “basic” shame. Whenever I see girls get Pumpkin Spice Lattes, buy Starbucks a bit too often, wear leggings as pants, or do any other stereotypically “basic” things I roll my eyes. I don’t even know why. There is no rational reason behind this type of shaming, other than maybe my staunch belief in individualism and weirdness – and being “basic” is neither.
But because the PSL has been idolized since forever, and I am a fan of warm drinks in cool weather, I decided to go for it. At least once in my lifetime. Maybe all this time I had missed out on my warm drink soul mate. Maybe my life was incomplete because I’d never had a PSL.
Still, as I told the cashier “small Pumpkin Spice Latte, please” I felt tinges of guilt and disgust and shame. I felt as if me getting a PSL would snowball into something bigger. I would be the butt of all jokes among my friends, who are even bigger shamers of basicness.
It cost five dollars. It cost five dollars for a small sized drink. I had never felt so ripped off in my life. “This had better taste like angels playing harp on my tongue,” I thought. After about 10 minutes, I had the drink in my hand, with my name misspelled (great start), and walked out of Starbucks toward my destination.
First sip. My heart sank immediately. It didn’t taste like angels playing harp on my tongue. It didn’t taste anything like angels doing anything near my tongue. Now, I must confess that I don’t like pumpkin flavoured things in general, so it could just be me, not the drink. But as a drink that has so many people willing to pay more than five dollars for, it was utterly disappointing.
However, while my heart sank, I was also elated. At least now, having tasted it, I can say that it’s overrated. And I love hating on anything overtly popular (cue the hipster haters). My disappointment meant that I wasn’t a closet basic female, and I still had my twisted sense of individuality.
I do applaud anyone who gets PSL often though, as you have to be a dedicated person to spend that much money on a non-alcoholic drink. Good on you. I don’t think I’d pay that much money for even my favourite drink in the world.
But honestly, the hot chocolate is so much better. And cheaper.