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Where would I be without these folks? They are my saviors. My source of life as I know it. The dealers of my only vice. Next to my wife, they are the first smiles I see each morning.

What's scary is how much of my money goes to the company that is secretly owned by Dr. Evil. And even more insideous, they have made it so easy to part with my money. Now they have the Starbucks Card, which is too darned convenient for its own good. It's gotten so bad that when I run low on the balance on my Starbucks Card, I simply fork over my ATM card to recharge it. Imagine, totally frictionless, cashless transactions. When you think of it, this is both wonderful and downright terrifying all at the same time.

Memo to Howard Schultz (CEO of Starbucks): Howard, baby! Here's my big idea: since you are already into me for an obscene portion of my total income (which, in my addiction I willingly give away to you), why not set it up so that you can set up a direct deposit from my paycheck into my Starbucks account? Hey, while you're at it, why not buy Washington Mutual Bank, so that this could be a lot easier? That way, you not only get direct deposits, but you can get all my money. And since every square inch of my favorite coffee emporium is a merchandising opportunity, and your wonderful employees are too darned pleasant for their own good, why not take them beyond being mere barristas? Imagine: you could make them into my personal financial advisor. That way, when I order a Grande No Whip Mocha to go with that blueberry lowfat muffin, they could also sell me on a 2 year CD, or do a quick refi on my house while I'm waiting for my coffee.

Consider it. Tell you what: have your people call my people and we can meet. Over coffee.