I go back and forth between drinking coffee and drinking a hot ginger water concoction my wife makes.

I prefer the ginger concoction, but it’s sometimes hard to find acceptable raw ginger, according to her. I don’t know the difference.

So on the occasions that nary an acceptable ginger root could be found and we drink coffee, I drink two cups of black coffee in the morning before I do anything else.

We have a coffeemaker that cost less than $20, which we’ve had for years. It replaced a coffeemaker we had for many more years, which was also less than $20.

I’m perfectly content with the quality of coffee this cheap little coffeemaker makes for us. My wife has even figured out how to set the timer so it starts brewing coffee a few minutes before our alarm goes off. It’s a feat far beyond my grasp of any such contraption.

So I had never been to a Starbucks, because I never had a reason to go into one. It was also very convenient for me to never go into one, given the founder’s liberal-leaning beliefs.

I have my little coffeemaker and I’m not supporting that guy’s business. Perfect.

My personal boycott was working fine until they — the local branches — reached out to my agency for a “Coffee with a Cop” event.

With the event set, and me being lucky enough to be asked to be a part of it, my Major made a statement aimed at those with my line of thinking.

He said, in effect, that we can’t ask people to not look at us badly for what some officers may do across the country if we aren’t willing to give the same benefit of the doubt to others. He made the point more eloquently than I, but I certainly took his point.

I heard several co-workers say the local stores were more than kind and cordial to them when they stopped by in uniform.

They were right. This particular branch had some of the friendliest staff I’ve ever encountered, in uniform or out. From the district manager who was there, to every other employee, it was a great day.

And I finally tasted some of their coffee. It was nitrous-infused (I think?). I don’t know that I would ever be able to order whatever I had without much assistance from one of their baristas.

I never learned anything past small, medium and large as far as sizes go. Not to mention flavors, infusions and what a frappuccino is in comparison to a cappuccino.

Two things I know for certain about whatever drink I had that day: a) it wasn’t black coffee, and b) it was delicious.

I may have a new favorite little place to stop by for a treat.

Toby Nix is a Newnan writer, guitarist and investigator for the Coweta County Sheriff’s Office. He is the author of two books, “Columns I Wrote” and the newly released “A Book I Wrote.” He can be reached at tobynix@yahoo.com.

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