Our obession with unicorns is real. Angeli Kakade (@angelikakade) has a story.
The email popped into my inbox. “Perfect assignment for you,” it read.
I non-stop it.
It was terrifying.
“We’d like we to go to Starbucks and ambience their unicorn frappuccino.”
That, we know, is a crazy pinkish splash that changes colors and is all over amicable media. (It also has some baristas upset.)
“A small aged English man like me?” we asked when we spoke to a assigning editor (who shall sojourn nameless). And we do meant aged – 62 in July. And we am still tempted to form “flavour.” Meanwhile, my officemates know we am antithetic to sickly-sweet drinks; my common collect during Starbucks is a double espresso.
I am not a Millennial. we do not know a unicorn emoji. But we pronounced sure, because not.
And so it was that we found myself in line during my internal Starbucks looking during a chalkboard with a colorful sketch of a pinkish splash in question, finish with a cute-as-heck unicorn.
A happy barista took my order.
“What size?” she asked. “Small, please.” “That’ll be a tall,” she corrected me. Harumph.
I afterwards watched the blindingly-colored libation being prepared. First, there was a puzzling pinkish substance. Then some really dazzingly colored juice (I after detected it was mango). Then some milk. we had illusory there would be some coffee in it. (Wrong!) Then it went in a blender. Meanwhile, a barista swirled some bluish glass on a inside of a crater before pouring in a brew from a blender.Then she put a towering of churned cream on tip and sprinkled a pinkish and purple sherbet piece over that. we am told Starbucks calls it “fairy dust.”
Now it was go-time.
I grabbed a straw and we did it. we sucked.
And it didn’t. Actually, my initial impressions were quite good.
First flavor: The mango. Then a informed ambience of milk. And it wasn’t too sweet. Or so it seemed.
Then we swirled it, as prescribed by Starbucks. we felt like we was traffic with a excellent wine.
Down from a side came a bluish stuff. It was, um, interesting. Starbucks describes it as “pleasantly sour.” we call it only sour. Sort of like one of those Sour Patch Kids candies on steroids.
I took it behind to a office. we customarily have a coffee during my table that we sip solemnly all day, so we suspicion it could reinstate that.
Over about an hour we had a occasional sip as a splash incited into a pinkish gloop, adequate so that about a third of it was gone.
And afterwards it happened.
A sugarine high.
Wondering because there are so many brief sentences?
Now we know why.
Watch my unicorn frappuccino ambience exam journey on USA TODAY’s Snapchat account.