I confess. In a life filled with confessions, here's another one. I have a crush. A Starbucks crush. I think most of you know what I'm talking about. And if you have to ask, well. It was 180-millimeters of heaven. And I was blessed to just have one. Its something about the foam, proportions, the steam and, well, she could tell you. I just know - its better than any I've tasted. My Starbucks crush actually started with what had to be the tastiest combination of espresso, hot milk and steamed-milk form ever created. The drink was really wonderful, and, really, if I hated her, I would still go back for another and another and another and another. The crush continued in earnest when I started pointing out to what good drink she gave and her colleagues began to catch on to my infatuation with her bar skills when I would wait and let other customers get ahead of me so I could be sure she would be making my drink. A couple of times when she wasn't there after that first Tall C...