I never thought I would appreciate Starbucks. It's expensive: a cup of black coffee there is $75 TWD, equivalent to about $2.25 USD, while all the numerous dedicated espresso shops that roast their own beans in town or even right on the premises charge about half that. The coffee is still just as disappointing as it's always been: strong, hot, sometimes freshly brewed, but roasted to a crisp, tasting like charcoal and missed opportunity. And of course it contributes to rising prices and homogenization of the neighborhoods it occupies. 

But if you spend any amount of time walking around in the heavy heat and humidity and traffic of Taipei, and then retreat into the dim, smooth-jazz, air-conditioned Starbucks, it's hard to continue hating it with every single fiber of your being. Especially once you realize you can just stand there by the door for as long as you want, and the staff will never ask you to buy something or get out. And that the bathroom is unlocked, and clean. And that you can find a cozy seat by the window on the third floor (there are always three floors) and use the free wifi for an hour or two, undisturbed except for the occasional obnoxious saxophone solo. Yes, a few of those fibers are no longer dedicated to hate. 

Wait, I lied, they still are -- it's just a hate tempered by a dash of humble gratitude.