While growing up, my dad always avoided coffee shops, even going so far as to avoid crossing their path since the espresso bean smell would invade his nostrils. As a kid, I idolized my dad (and still do) and wanted to be just like him. 

While escaping the mid-December freeze into a local breakfast spot, he grimaced at the coffee smell and confided in the then 9-year-old me his disdain for the “bitter” taste of coffee and so in turn, I exclaimed in my high-pitched voice, “Yuck! I will never, ever like coffee!” as we shared in conversation while holding piping hot chocolates.

When I turned 18, my demanding lifestyle got the best of me. Waking up at 5:00 am to arrive at my Nanny job, the family’s Keurig machine called to me. “Urgh”, I thought while looking into my cup of black liquid. Despite the Keurig coffee tasting like burnt cigarettes, the noticeable spike of energy helped a lot.

Still not knowing much about coffee other than it was a necessary evil, after pulling an overnighter to study for a history exam, I was led right into the arms of my college’s Starbucks. The conversation between me and the barista went something like this:

Me: “ I need a coffee.”

Barista: “Will that be a tall, grande, or venti?”

Me: “A what?”

Barista: “Ugh, a small, medium, or large?”

Me: “Medium.”

Barista: “Do you want cream in your coffee or did you mean you wanted a latte?”

Me: “What’s with all these questions? I just need caffeine!”

Funny enough, last time I spoke to a Starbucks Barista, she said they actually prepare for how to handle the influx of novice Starbucks drinkers before the school semester begins. Thinking back to my confusing first Starbucks visit, I couldn’t imagine how a barista could handle tons of college students just a clueless as myself.

Now, I would be considered a coffee enthusiast with espresso running through my veins.