Looks delightful, right? It's their "Cool Lime Refresher." So, I ordered myself a "tall" and then set about my task of spending Caleb and Norah's college tuition on endcaps.
Well, one taste of that "refresher," and I nearly spit it out. It tasted like crushed dreams.
With ice and a lime wedge.
I paused, examined the vile drink -- looking for its source of evil -- and then thought perhaps my taste buds were being rash. There have been plenty of beverages I didn't like at first that now rank among my favorites (coffee, beer), so I gave it another try. And, another try, and an effing other try.
No matter how many sips I took, this devil juice did NOT grow on me. If anything, my initial reaction only intensified.
It tasted like a non-alcoholic version of a Mojito. And, I know I live in South Florida so it's blasphemy to say this, but I H-A-T-E Mojitos (plural of that? I don't know if I add the "es" or just an "s"? spellcheck's not being helpful. at all). Probably because I abhor mint, and this foul elixir most certainly contained mint (maybe I should have asked about the flavor before ordering it? that would've been logical).
Anyway, I drank that god awful thing because it cost $3. $3! For a 12 oz (really, after ice, it was probably 8 oz of liquid) cup of skunk juice.
On the way home, this got to me: $3! I could get a half gallon of delightful lemonade from Publix for less than that and be totally happy! By the time I was home, I was angry at Starbucks for selling me such a wicked drink.
So, I emailed them and told them so.
I don't expect anything from Starbucks -- a reply might be nice -- but it felt good typing those 2,050 "characters" to tell them how this drink prompted my entire mouth to nearly host a stomach revolution.