By Sue Murphy
It’s like Jumpin’Jack Doritos all over again.
When I asked for my usual green iced tea and morning muffin at Starbucks a few weeks ago, I was told that the muffin had been discontinued. To give you an idea of the magnitude of this loss, you need to know that I have ordered the muffin at least twice a week for the past 6 months. After every treatment, every pre-fasting test, I ate a morning muffin. Now, it was gone.
The morning muffin was a thing of beauty, filled with fruit and nuts and topped with pumpkin seeds. It was a healthy snack, one you could feel positively virtuous about, and on top of that, it was delicious. What were the odds?
When I called my daughter to wail about its demise, she immediately looked up the muffin ingredients on the company’s nutrition page, so I suppose I could fire up my Martha Mixer and guess at the ingredient amounts, but I don’t really want 12 muffins. I just want one at a time, savored at a table in the sun.
Discontinued. Why? I had talked up the muffin all over town, which I thought was generous of me since it could have meant the pastry case would be empty when I got there, but apparently I didn’t talk it up enough. It helped that the barista was unhappy about my missing muffin, too, but neither of us had the power to change the situation.
The incident brought back dark memories of the loss of my Jumpin’ Jack Doritos. They were akin to Cool Ranch Doritos but with a more subtle cheesy flavor. Again, delicious, and I promise you, I not only ate my share but that of a few other people. In the end, however, it wasn’t enough to save the poor things and I had to move on.
I’ll move on from the morning muffin, too, but it kind of rankles me that I have to. Don’t the company executives value muffin diversity? It didn’t take up that much room and if Mr. Starbucks wanted me to sign a pledge to consume at least two muffins a week, I’d do it. I’d go as high as three and if I went out of town, I’d hire a muffin sub to take my share. Really, I would.
I’m sure it all gets down to numbers, with 90% of people preferring blueberry, but sometimes I get tired of the tyranny of the majority. It may be partly my fault because I didn’t say how much I liked the muffin as I went along. I didn’t tweet or email or put it on my Facebook page.
Lesson learned. If there’s something out there that you like, I mean really like, make sure the higher-ups know about it. They hear a lot of complaints, I’m sure, so a “job well done” message might actually get some play.
So, Mr. Starbucks, listen up: I really, really, really (can’t have too many) like the green iced tea. Please, please, please (again, never too many) don’t discontinue that. I’ve been a good sport, but at that point, I’d have to stage a sit-in that would look more like a cry-in because, it’s silly, but I would be inconsolable.
It’s all going to work out. It is. In fact, when I came through the door at Starbucks yesterday, the barista had already warmed up a blueberry muffin and my iced tea was being summarily shaken. They were both delicious, but I couldn’t help looking wistfully at the pastry case, mourning my morning muffin.
