Dear Peet’s:
I’ve been madly in love with you most of my adult life. I met you in San Francisco when my father introduced us to one another in his old Chestnut Street neighborhood.
Doni, meet Peet’s.
I loved you from the start. I loved the taste of your coffee; unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Ebony in color. Intoxicating in taste. And your aroma, so strong and distinct that I nearly needed to close my eyes to take it all in.
Shelves behind the counter held huge jars filled with a treasure trove of shiny black beans.
People sat near the windows and sipped your coffee as they read newspapers or talked. Everyone looked so content. They belonged at Peet’s. Peet’s was their place.
I felt happy for them, but a bit sad that I had no Peet’s to enjoy in my hometown.
So I compromised. I loved you from afar. A long-distance relationship was better than living completely without you.
At first I stocked up on Peet’s whenever I visited my father. I did that for years and years, until my father died, and I found I didn’t visit San Francisco as often.
I arranged for monthly Peet’s shipments to my doorstep, which always prompted comments from the mail carriers. They said their little trucks were filled with the delicious scent of freshly roasted coffee.
Eventually Peet’s was available for sale in a few Redding stores.
That’s how I get you now. I buy you off a Safeway shelf across from the foil, Saran Wrap and Zip lock bags, not far from the frozen meat section.
But it’s not the same as buying you in a real Peet’s store.
Have I mentioned that Chico has the nearest Peet’s? But that’s more than an hour’s drive from Redding.
Which brings me to why I’m writing. Again. (I emailed you a few years ago to ask if you’d consider moving to Redding. You said you’d consider it.)
Don’t make me beg. I have my pride.
OK, I’ll beg.
Peet’s, my dear, dear Peet’s, please come to Redding. Please.
I’m not the only who loves you. I’m not the only one who wants you here in the north state.
You have many, many devoted fans here. In fact, you’re often the topic of our conversations.
“Don’t you wish we had a Peet’s here?” and “Why won’t Peet’s come here?” and “We don’t need another Starbucks!”
Not that we have anything against (the more than a dozen north state) Starbucks. They hire nice people. And I like Starbucks’ decorating. And I am quite fond of Starbucks’ Tuxedo (also called a Zebra): espresso, half white mocha and half regular mocha.
Starbucks is in such financial trouble that it’s closing about 600 stores, including two in Redding. Both of those stores are in great locations: Redding’s downtown area. One is on Cypress Avenue, across from the Redding City Hall. The other is on California and Placer streets.
Although I happen to think the California and Placer location would be ideal for you, either one would be perfect.
Picture this: Peet’s in downtown Redding. You’d be the darling of downtown. You’d have Peet’s groupies lined up outside your doors every day.
I’d be your No. 1 Peetnik.
Don’t say no.
Do please come to Redding and see for yourself. Better yet, drop me a note and I’d happily be your tour guide. I’ll show you around. Heck, we can meet for coffee. At my house.
I serve Peet’s French Roast.
