Return of the Gingerbread Latte

It was such a momentous occasion I forgot to blog about it. I had my first Gingerbread Latte yesterday afternoon after I couldn’t take the tedium at work any longer and had to get out of the office for a couple of seconds.

First, a little background history. I was having a delightful coffee date with my good, German friend Christoph at the Starbucks on Dupont Circle. He was drinking a hot chocolate – me, probably a mocha. A woman comes around with a tray of shotglass-sized coffees topped with whipped cream and sprinkles. I taste the Gingerbread latte and I become forever addicted to their power. It tastes like a little Gingerbread man just melted into my latte.

I spend the remainder of the Christmas season seeking out Gingerbread lattes like an addict. Then, about February, my normal Starbucks haunt on Dupont no longer has the Gingerbread syrup (made up of God knows what chemicals and artificial sweetners and flavorings). I try the one on M St. in Georgetown, no dice. Wisconsin Ave, same deal. The Gingerbread Latte has left the building. My withdrawal symptoms were severe and lasted through June.

But now it has returned. An although I search for a bottle of Gingerbread syrup so that I can make my own lattes at home, that search has been in vain, and I am chained to the unholy beast that is a corporate coffee house. Damn them, damn them all!

The only thing that can keep me from enjoying my Gingerbread latte is if I were to see Charlon Heston running out of a Starbucks screaming “Gingerbread lattes are people, people.” Unless he meant little Gingerbread people, which of course would be okay.