It's easy to understand the Starbuck's magnetism on Filipino's. Every Starbucks store radiates with the promise of great coffee and best of class service. People are drawn to the brand itself rather than to the products that the store sells. I have had my good days and bad days with Starbucks, bad days pointing to bitter, charcoal tasting coffee and good days to some good (not bad but not great) coffee. One of the reasons why I go to there is usally the crowd, the yuppies, together with the twenty something's band together with the kikay crowd and wannabee cool teens, its a great place to stare and to do some people watching. But its really not a good place to take your journal or laptop for some good writing, the crowd is brash and often too loud for some thinking.

This is what I miss about the States, the Philippines have a weird take on cafe culture, they really don't get it, it reminds me of a "gimmick" culture rather than a real cafe. Back in the States, its quite different, at least they have an understanding of the Italian cafe culture.

I miss drinking great coffee, I miss the sights and sounds of a real cafe. The tamping and hissing sounds as the barista creates art out of a handful of delicately roasted arabica. I hate in the deepest sense of the word, the bitter and foul tasting liquid that I am offered each time I visit Starbucks. And I beg to disagree with Mr. Shultz, the best way to roast coffee isn't always dark. But there is hope for coffee lovers like me, stores like Bo's and Figaro offer a quiet reprieve from the everyday life. A place to think, to write and drink a great cup of coffee.

Between sleep and being awake, I sat inside the cab in silence. Listening to the sound of the rain outside, stop and go, I slide in and out of sleep. I’m trying to survive on a meager diet of instant cup noodles and gallons of neon colored energy drink. Radio music like background static, I try to focus on the words but my sleep starved brain was too tired to decipher. Finally I arrived at my destination, a dark old four storey building, I passed by a half asleep security guard, he looks at me with a blank stare and then goes back to sleep.

I opened-up my computer, there were a thousand and one messages waiting to be answered. I paused, closed my email, they could wait.