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I Tried the Starbucks Unicorn Frappuccino So You Don’t Have To

I Tried the Starbucks Unicorn Frappuccino So You Don’t Have To

This is the first time I’ve stepped into a Starbucks inside a Macy’s inside a mall — and I’m here to try the Starbucks Unicorn Frappuccino.

I’m thinking of how the setup is like a configuration of Russian dolls, stores in stores in a giant conglomeration of stores, when the guy behind the counter flashes me a jolly smile. “Good afternoon! What’ll it be today?”

“I’ll have a tall Unicorn Frappuccino,” I reply, cringing a little on the inside. Even I’m judging myself. Last night a good friend of mine who worked at Starbucks had gone on a rant about how much she hated the drink, from its super-sugary contents to the fact that blenders had to be washed out after each use to the grown women who threw tantrums upon finding out that ingredients had run out. I decided to try it out for myself the next day. Why not? I’d received a Starbucks gift card this past Christmas and needed an excuse to use it.

“Aha! I called it.” The dude gestures to my outfit. “And you match! I love that lipstick!”

It’s true — I’m wearing a pink dress and statement necklace to match what will inevitably be an unappetizing photo prop. Super basic. “It’s for a blog review I’m writing about the Unicorn frappuccino craze,” I can’t resist telling him. “I heard all the Starbucks baristas are sick and tired of making them.”

His laugh is completely void of irony. “Hey, I’m having a great time with it.” There’s a twinkle in his eye as he hands me my receipt. “I’m only working register today.”

The famed Starbucks Unicorn Frappuccino took the Internet by storm last week, stealing the hearts and Instagram feeds of bloggers everywhere, half because they were limited edition (only available til April 23rd!) and half because the pink, blue, and purple #aesthetic blend went perfectly well with their pastel-themed spring outfits. My guess is that they, along with the rest of the average American population, bought the drink, shot photos, took a few sips of it, and threw it away. With the frap’s 410 calories, 59 grams of sugar, and 62 carbs, it would be the healthy thing to do.

“I heard it was awful, so I’m here to try it out firsthand,” I tell the barista who makes my drink.

“It takes like Pepto-Bismol mixed with sour sauce,” she replies as she slides the too-bright-to-be-any-sort-of-natural concoction over to me. “Enjoy!”

She’s right. One sip reveals an overwhelmingly sweet, tangy flavor and another has me making a face at the whipped cream. I decide that the Unicorn Frappuccino will be in my pictures, but not in my body.

The drink visibly wilts as I continue to snap photos with it in the Florida heat. “It’s finished with whipped cream-sprinkled pink and blue fairy powders,” the official website promises, but all I’m looking at is a sad purplish slushy with sprinkles bleeding color all over deflated whipped cream.

“Want a sip?” I ask a curious onlooker who stops to ask me what I’m doing. They shake their head. I carry the cup a ways further, then unceremoniously drop the entire thing in the trash.

Final consensus? The “magic” that the Unicorn Frappuccino promises is nothing but hype and a whole lot of potential diabetes. Also, in this case, it’s no coincidence that “frap” rhymes with “crap” and “trap.”

Not a great use of that gift card. ♚

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© 2019 by Marty Noel Chenyao. All rights reserved.

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