Gregory the great

Upon setting foot in New York for the first time you will inevitably catch yourself and say “Holy shit – I’m in New York!” It’s a bucket lost location. A marvel. The beating heart of all my Carrie Bradshaw fantasies. Now that I was actually here, I wanted to leap out of bed raring to go in the mornings… and yet I also had jet lag / a post-pneumonia hangover which meant my body clock was screaming “WHAT TIME IS IT?!” at the top of its lungs 24/7 like an old geriatric man.

Well… Misery loves company – and luckily I was vacationing with my parents who were equally blinking into the daylight, so at 06:00am we collectively pulled on our sunglasses and went in search of coffee. Obviously the caffeine gods were smiling down on us because only a few blocks away we came to a little place called Greggs.

Lets just say – we smelt it before we saw it. It smelt like salvation.

They even had a cute little sign at the coffee collection point to give customers an inspirational boost

I ordered something called a dirty chai tea latte (I checked, and what makes it “dirty” is an extra shot of espresso rather than a sock floating in one of the machines). Now. I have had a chai tea latte before but they always tasted slightly sickly to me. This? This was heaven. It was the best Chai tea latte I have ever had in my life, dirty or otherwise. It tasted delicious. It woke me up. It made me feel positive and vibrant – and even capable of smiling despite my eyeballs potentially dropping right out of my head any moment because I was so incredibly exhausted physically, emotionally and spiritually.

I had another … and then also bought an extra dirty one for the road. In fact, we frequented Greggs so much that by the second day our barista had memorised our orders and when we went in without Daddyo he looked terribly offended and said “Wait – where’s your Dad?”

Now that Ladies and Gentlemen – is customer service.

Obviously we enjoyed the experience of Greggs so much we raided the merchandise section of the joint and cleared them out of beans, mugs, tshirts and baseball caps. Just because we all knew we would go into collective withdrawl as soon as we got on the plane back to England.

This post is not sponsored by the way. But it should be.

I would tattoo the Greggs logo on my bum if I could make that happen.

Seriously Greggs – we should talk

 

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