Overnight activity grinds to a halt
As 2007 turned to 2008, few raised their coffee cups to mark the occasion at the all-night Starbucks.
By MICHAEL KRUSE, Times Staff Writer
Published January 2, 2008
LAND O'LAKES - Exactly one motor vehicle used the new 24/7 drive-through at the Starbucks at Collier Commons in the first three hours of 2008.
This may or may not be of interest to Starbucks shot callers, who in the coming weeks are opening two more 24/7 Starbucks in central Pasco, one at State Road 54 and the Suncoast Parkway, the other at State Road 56 and Bruce B. Downs Boulevard.
The itsy-bitsy wee-hours turnout was not, in fact, particularly unusual, according to one overnight employee, who communicated in head nods on account of a gag order imposed by Starbucks public relations staffers.
This part of Pasco, cattle pasture-turned-concrete just north of the Hillsborough line, is a place in which people drive great distances for most basic, daily things - for work, for school, for acceptable evening activity.
It's not that far, they say.
Except when it is.
Like on New Year's Eve.
If you live here, you know you're close to home when you drive into the darkness.
The thought was that this Starbucks might end up being a New Year's beacon of sorts. Not everybody is responsible, not everybody plans ahead, not everybody cares. Some people think coffee is enough to sober you up.
Hence the fishing expedition/reportorial vigil - the idea that this might make for a local, on-the-ground glimpse at unwitting post-party shenanigans, perhaps some public intoxication at the order-here squawk box under the three tall palms, hopefully some small-time, nonlethal amusement within the otherwise angular confines of the greater Collier Commons metropolitan area.
This is New Year's Eve in far-flung exurban Florida.
The combination of temperatures in the 70s and the oppressive availability of fireworks sold from so many garish roadside tents leads to amateur-hour boom-boom from the area's unsupervised teens, pyros and man-boys.
Shortly after 10 p.m., smoke hovered above the trash compactor at the luxury apartment homes at The Lakes, and the parking lot by the Sonic and the Publix had turned into what seemed at times like a small-artillery battlefield.
At the Starbucks, around 10:30, three tables were being used outside on the patio.
There was a table with two women.
There was a table with a man and a woman.
There was a table with just one woman who was alone and outfitted in a sparkly dress and high heels who clearly was waiting for a date who was late.
She walked inside.
"You're all sparkly," one of the employees said.
"I'm sparkly!" the woman said as she threw up her left hand in a theatrical flourish.
Seated in the caf, there was a man, a woman and a boy, who appeared to be together, but who couldn't be talked to, also because of the rules established by the Starbucks PR staffers, who say things to reporters about not wanting to wreck or otherwise sully the customers' "experience."
The man looked at his watch.
"10:48," he announced.
He got up, and so did the woman, and so did the boy, and they walked out.
In walked a new man, blue blazer, tan slacks.
"There he is," one employee said.
"He's late," the other employee said.
Blazer told Sparkly he liked her dress and they left like they had somewhere to be.
A man in a black shirt was at a corner table and took off his glasses and very purposefully did things with his personal digital assistant.
A very short Asian woman ordered a very tall drink and talked away on her cell as she stirred in the sweetener.
A new group walked in: a man, two women and a young boy with blond, frosted-tipped hair. They talked about Star Trek, Miami Vice and The Gilmore Girls.
"I'm not even tired," the boy said to the others.
They left not too long after that.
Then it was 11:47. Nothing. No one.
And 11:51. Nothing. No one.
And 11:56. Nothing. No one.
When the last few seconds of '07 turned to the first few seconds of '08, three people were inside the Collier Commons Starbucks - two workers and one dumb reporter.
Outside, out on 54, there were hardly any cars, eerie even. Wherever people were going to be for the click of the clock, wherever that was, they were there, not here.
The darkness was for a short and temporary time broken by snaps and bangs, close tinny pops, high whines, fast-paced whistles, distant soapy-sounding spritzes, and pulses of bright light in the low sky, and finally longer, more guttural, professionally done cannon booms coming, presumably, from Busch Gardens, Channelside, the St. Petersburg Pier and spots out over the gulf. The grand finales came and went.
At 1 a.m., on the darn dot, three girls in a black Jeep pulled up ably at the squawk box and ordered fruity frappuccinos. They behaved themselves.
But that was it. No more customers from then until 3.
Out on the porch, when the Starbucks soundtrack Muzak stopped long enough to switch songs, you could hear the crickets and the audible buzz of the surrounding neon signs.
A fingernail moon clung to the cloud-covered sky, diminished.
Time went on - it usually does - and sporadic, half-hearted sounds came from the south, which seemed appropriate.
Michael Kruse can be reached at mkruse@sptimes.com or 813 909-4617.