La Vie Niçoise

Tazo chai teabags are readily available at all Lower Mainland Starbucks locations. For only $9.95, plus the cost of milk, you too can enjoy a warm, spicy latte in the comfort of your own home, no matter where home may be.

I was thrilled to discover this fact during one of my fake-Vancouver-tourist outings to a Granville street Starbucks last December. (During my 4-month stay in Nice, I'd made an extensive city search, not unlike the one for tapioca pearls, for sachets of chai tea. But alas, no beans. Or leaves, for that matter.)

Examining the price, I hesitated. "There's still time. You can buy it later," my imaginary procrastination devil whispered into my ear.

"Remind me to buy some chai before I leave, ok?" I prodded my touring partner. "I can't find the stuff in France, and I told my friends I'd bring some back."

--
Friday, 07h55 (that's 7:55AM)

I trudge sleepily toward YVR's Gate 35, the morning after the The Great Confusion. I'm on 4 hours of sleep, but staying up was worth it; at 1am, I'd managed to contact kuya Jonathan, a church brother from the Nice congregation, who was spending his vacation with his recently-wed femme in Paris. He'd insisted he come pick me up from Charles de Gaulle, even though my plane would arrive at the devastatingly early hour of 6:25am. What a guy.

I've 25 minutes till my Montreal flight boards. Hungry and tired, I spot an overpriced airport foodery across from my gate and order a random breakfast pastry and grande chai latte. I love how I can use American Express for my $5 Starbucks breakfast. As I wait for my order, I wander to their display shelf filled with sachet Tazo tea gift sets. That'd be nice to bring back for someone as a souvenir, I muse, smiling, and turn around to check for my order.

Wait a sec... My face drops as I realise that procrastination devil had almost claimed another victim. I'd almost forgotten to buy my tea! Whew, at least I could say that missing my flight gave me a second chance at something. I turn around and search for a box of Tazo chai. Earl Grey, Darjeeling, and something called "Awake"... I grab a box and stride back to the counter.

"Do you guys have this in chai?" I inquire to the woman at the register- a small, yet very efficient asian lady who reminded me of the Alex Mackenzie cafeteria cashier (Helloo!)

"No, sorry, that's all we have," she responded, handing me my order.

Oh.

Of course, airport location. "Okay, thanks," I take my grande latte, force a smile, and walk away, disappointed.

It's just tea, I told myself, sitting down and sipping the last chai latte I'd have till September. I sigh, dejectedly. But it's just so good. Coffee doesn't even come close.

Now, at this point, the old, timid Angelica would simply look longingly at the Starbucks and sulk quietly at her lackedbrainedness before being whisked away across the Atlantic.

Yeah. Old Angelica's a loser.

I look at my watch, gulp the last of my latte, and stand up.

"Hi again. I have a kind of strange request to ask," I recite when I get to the counter, imitating Greg's guide to How to Get What You Want When It's Not For Sale.

The youngish brown-haired gal nodded agreably, "Uh huh?" Encouraging.

"See, I'm going back to France, where there's no starbucks ... no chai tea. And you guys don't have the chai tea sachets left... Do you think I'd be able to buy one of your boxes of chai concentrate back there?"

I look over her shoulder at the white 1-litre box they use to make in-store lattes, and brace myself for a "Sorry, it's not for sale."

"Yeah, well actually we do sell boxes of concentrate, I've seen them before. $6.95, I think." Really?

"But there aren't any left of the retail kind..." she turns to examine a white box behind her, but her manager, the efficient lady, is at her side in 2 seconds.

"We can't sell it to you. See?" She holds up a box and points at the label: "It says 'Not For Retail Sale'."

She moves away, as if to say, Conversation Over.

Dammit! And then, out of nowhere, tears start to appear in my eyes. How embarassing. I guess I just don't like failure. Having to spend $200 on a missed flight and acting on 4 hours of sleep don't help either. Greg's words echo in my head: "Give the impression that you aren't leaving without getting what you want."

I stand there stupidly, as if my feet were glued to the spot. "I'll pay twice as much!" I blurt in desperation. Good move, dummy. I don't think that was in the guide.

The manager cocks an eyebrow and looks me up and down. I feel ridiculous, but I stare right back. It works. She's on the phone, and after 2 calls and a thoughtful observation from one of the employees, she sends a starbucks dude on a quest to "Flagship" (whatever that is) to retrieve a box of Chai Tea concentrate, retail version.

"When's your flight?" she asks.

"8:45."

"Hey!" she calls after Starbucks guy who's striding quickly away. "Can you run? Yeah, like run?" I love this woman.

Before boarding, I quickly buy a card and chocolates, and hurridly write a thank-you. "Starbucks, Gate 35" the envelope reads, as I slide it and the bag of chocolate almonds to the guy, now back from flagship. He hands me my gold-coloured box of tea concentrate. Mm... precious chai gold.

That's commitment to the customers, people. "I love Canada", I think to myself, as I walk onto the plane, box of chai tucked safely away in my shoulder bag.