Cappuccino at tax-dodging Starbucks

What was I doing in Starbucks, a place I would not normally wish to be seen dead in?

Curiosity, just how bad is coffee in Starbucks? Maybe I would be pleasantly surprised? Though I doubted.

I ordered a cappuccino.

I was offered a choice of three different sizes, normal, large and extra large, what Starbucks calls grande.

No, a cappuccino is not made this large.

I was told to go to the end of the counter to wait for my coffee.

I watched as my cappuccino was made. The girl was completely clueless on how to make a cappuccino.

It was made in a glass. The contents of the glass dumped in a large cup, more like a mug. Spilt on the side, no attempt to clean the cup, or better still, start again,

The coffee was not brewed direct into the cup, nor swilled around the cup in a circular motion to coat the sides.

The steamed milk was dumped out of the side of the jug into my cup. No attempt made to pour into the cup.

Watching my coffee prepared the attitude was one of, don’t care, don’t give a shit.

The coffee looked disgusting, tasted disgusting, brewed too hot.

The only positive I could say, no chocolate dumped on top.

It was then find somewhere to sit in amongst the rubbish, tables not cleared, dirty coffee cups, half empty cans.

Several minutes later, the girl who took my order cleared the tables.

She brought me iced water when asked. Brought in a plastic cup.

I noticed around half the customers were drinking out of plastic-lined paper takeaway cups or plastic cups.

So much for the bullshit from Starbucks caring about the environment.

The coffee was not as bad as I expected, it was far, far worse. But then what to expect from over-roasted burnt commodity coffee?

How do people drink this rubbish?

The simple answer is they don’t. What they do is add sugar add syrups in an attempt to make the coffee palatable. Hence the row of syrups prominently displayed.

The reason I asked for water was to take away the unpleasant taste of the coffee. I had to ask as no water available or brought to the table.

Beneath my table, 13-amp sockets to act as footrests.

The ambience of the coffee shop that of a station waiting room. Awful music playing in the background.

When this coffee shop opened, the then imbecile leader of the local council bragged Starbucks had made Farnborough its home. No, a tax-dodging corporate chain had opened a coffee shop to drain money out of the local economy. Home, if by home imply a company head office, is for Starbucks in Netherlands to avoid UK tax.

Outside three shed selling tat and a third shed selling disgusting German sausages. This is what in Farnborough constitutes a Christmas market.

Farnborough a run down dying town centre destroyed by decades of poor town centre planning, a council in bed with greedy developers. A council with no idea what constitutes good town centre planning or how local economies function.

Those who have the means or the time go elsewhere. And most certainly go elsewhere if they wish for a decent cup of coffee or somewhere decent to eat.

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