On my walk to class, I stopped by Starbucks, which is ever so conveniently en route to the designated building that APR (advertising/public relations) 280: "Investigation and Insights" is held in. I ordered the usual, a raspberry lemonade (no, not a Teavana lemonade) and two chocolate cake pops. Much to my dismay, they were fresh out of both. 

I had to take drastic measures. My first step was to do what any normal, robust human being would do—cry.

I'd been day dreaming about my yummy mid-afternoon snack all morning only to have it prematurely confiscated by the 3 pm rush. Next, I put on my big girl pants and wiped my tears away. I decided to step out of my comfort zone. All five girls in line before me ordered pumpkin spice lattes, so I decided to take a chance and see what all the hype is about.

It was still pretty hot in mid November, that's Alabama for ya. This Jersey girl will never fully adjust to the heat even three years later. Thus, I settled for an iced PSL and a chocolate chip cookie. Okay, the cookie wasn't really settling, but it still caused some mental and emotional alterations to my afternoon that threw me off just a lil' bit.

Honestly, I hate coffee. My judgement may be a bit clouded, but yet here you are, still reading this article. Even though I hate coffee I do love the smell and taste of pumpkin. So I kept an open mind and since I've never heard anyone complain about the ever-famous PSL in the past I wasn't expecting anything too out of the ordinary. My expectations were wrong.

tea, milk, coffee
Kate Steiner

I took one sip and I was less than pleased. The only way I can think to describe it was the way Squidward Tentacles described his first Krabby Patty—it was the most "horrible, putrid, poorly prepared, vile, unappetizing, disgusting excuse for a sandwich (or in this case, drink) that has ever been my displeasure to have slithered down my throat." I was truly appalled. How do you people drink that shit?

The next day I felt refreshed. I had rid my body from the horrors of the iced PSL that I had consumed the day before. Because I had some time to process the events from the previous day, I chose to give the PSL another opportunity to redeem itself. I hit up Starbz again that evening and ordered a regular, hot PSL, willingly.

Drinking it hot was not quite as horrid, but it still wasn't great. I had to go back to the counter and ask a barista if I could have some more whipped cream. She shot me a look that said "are you f*cking kidding me?" As if I had just slaughtered her first born. I shot her one back that said "uh, no I'm f*cking not." Ya mess with unsatisfied, thirsty bull... ya get the sassy, exasperated horns. The whipped cream helped, but then I realized that it was because I had added so much that it drowned out the taste of drink itself. Oops. 

I personally feel that the PSL is only available for a limited time per year for a reason: it sucks. Starbucks single handedly tarnished the name of all things good and pumpkin in one tiny, overpriced cup.

My PSL experience wasn't all bad, though. I learned a valuable lesson: to never betray the usual order that is the perfect combination of sweet and tart again. 

sweet, chocolate, cake
Kate Steiner

Don't worry Starbz, I'll still be back tomorrow.