Opinion | What your favorite place to buy coffee says about you

By Talia Spillerman, Senior Staff Columnist

When walking in Oakland, you’ll hear a symphony of swooshing ice clinking against plastic cups. Between coffee, boba, milkshakes and an abundance of other morale-boosting drinks, everyone has a favorite to get them through a dreary Monday — or any day, for that matter. 

Here’s your personality based on where you buy your energy-boosting drink.

Amos Starbucks 

While you forced your Mom to buy you a Keurig and Dunkin’ K-cups before your first year living in Tower B, it’s now a decoration on your dresser. You thought that once you got to college you would magically like the taste of coffee, but you still need ungodly amounts of milk and syrup for your caffeine fix. 

While waiting for a drink and breakfast sandwich at 10 a.m. every morning, you always run into at least one person from your class’s Facebook page that you messaged before arriving on campus. You also make small talk about the climb on Cardiac Hill and how glad you are to live in Tower B since it’s basically in the heart of campus. 

Atwood Starbucks 

You used to go to Amos, but seeing someone you know on the walk there or during your wait is too much to handle. You usually drink coffee that you brew in the comfort of your own home — you only buy your coffee on days you’re in a rush or need a midday pick-me-up. 

You want to try locally owned coffee shops, but the convenience of a mobile order is hard to resist. In fact, you make sure to mobile order your drink 30 minutes ahead of time to avoid small talk with your project partner from Psychology 101 while waiting in line. 

Fuku Tea

You like the feeling of balls in your mouth — tapioca balls, that is. You never got in on the caffeine craze that dominates in college culture — mainly because you don’t like the taste of coffee. 

However, you love walking down Forbes with your colorful straw juxtaposing the sea of sippy-cup Starbucks lids — like an onion ring in a bowl of french fries — to show that you don’t need coffee, just a mere inspirational drink is enough to boost your day. To you boba fanatics, I have one question — how does it feel to be better than everyone? 


Ever since you went abroad and drank a cappuccino every morning from the coffee shop below your apartment in Venice, you refuse to go back to your Starbucks’ iced latte with cold foam. So you decided to explore other options and sauntered down Meyran to this hidden coffee oasis. You get your drink and sit at the picnic tables while reading the latest Colleen Hoover book. For hours, you sit — sipping, reading and eavesdropping on nearby conversations. 

Dunkin’ on Forbes 

You’re in the mood to be disappointed — with your drink and studying for the day. Each visit, you get a different flavor and milk combination, but somehow, it tastes the same. I do understand the appeal — in a world full of uncertainty, it’s refreshing to know you can depend on a Dunkin’ beverage not meeting your expectations time and time again. 

Although the caffeinated milky water is not why you venture to the heart of campus, you come to people-watch through the giant windows that peer onto Forbes. When you spot someone you know walking by, you text in your group chat as if you spotted a celebrity. After a few hours, you realize that you spent more time looking out the window than writing your essay due at midnight. 

Dunkin’ on Centre 

You used to be obsessed with niche life hacks that might work but, overall, are not with the hassle — like trying to peel a clementine in one piece. You went to this Dunkin’ once because you heard it was better and quicker than the one on Forbes. It was — but was it worth walking 20 minutes out of your way? Probably not. So now you’ll just settle for mediocre coffee like the rest of the Forbes Dunkin’ drinkers. 

Saxby’s Hillman 

You need caffeine, but you don’t like coffee — so you go to the closest place possible to avoid missing a review topic with your study group. You get the same drink as the person in front of you, hoping that they know what kind of coffee tastes good, but little do you realize that they too just got the drink of the person in front of them. You end up ordering a vanilla latte with almond milk even though you’re wondering what “cappuccino” means. Maybe between now and the next o-chem exam, you’ll google it. 


You like big buns, and you cannot lie. You’re here to meet friends who you haven’t seen since your first year. You reminisce on your adventures in Holland Hall — what a different time! While sipping on the monthly latte special, which tastes much better than Dunkin’, you tell them how you passed your first-year neighbor on the street and the startling new haircut he got. After about an hour, you tell them you have to go. You all feel obligated to exclaim that you all should get together soon even though you all very well know that it will be possibly months before you make time to see each other again — if at all. 

Milkshake Factory 

You’re a first-year. You got the meal plan with the most off-campus dining dollars and spent all of them at the Milkshake Factory — besides the one time you went to Stack’d with your whole floor. You’ve tried every flavor on the menu and have settled on “The Chocolatier” as the best. Each time, you hope that your lactose intolerance decides to disappear for the night — though that never seems to be the case. 

Yet, no matter the outcome, you’re a loyal fan. You’ll return with whoever on your floor is available, even if it is so cold that your hands freeze to the cup or the aroma of the aftermath shifts through your floor’s airways for three to five business days. 

Talia Spillerman writes about anything and everything. Write to her at [email protected]