Oh, New England.  One day, bikini-clad students bask in the sun, enjoying the 60 degree weather, and the next day, well, yields students covered from head to toe in rain gear and puffy jackets that came out from the depths of their closets.  This rapid fluctuation of climate over the past couple of weeks can easily disturb one’s immune system.  And despite having lived in New England for the past 4 years, I still had not learned this important lesson: always be prepared for anything.

A consequence of believing that the presence of the sun’s rays equates to warm weather is the onset of illness.  My throat became scratchy, and I found myself chugging gallons of water.  However, this hydration proved to be useless.  As the scragginess in my voice increased, I was forced to turn to my favorite remedy: hot tea.  When I reached for my tea stash, it was completely empty!  Noooo!  The fact that this past winter was especially brutal escaped my mind, thus causing me to clear out my supply within the first two months of the semester.  Oh well, guess it’s time to get more.

I set out on a quest to find a local tea shop (so that I could also write this review).  However, that search turned out to be unfruitful, as most of the locations were only accessible by car.  I decided to forgo that option and instead retreated to a well-known tea shop: Teavana.

Just to preface this visit, I want to start off by saying that I’ve never been a huge fan of Teavana.  There are many branches of this shop in California, but due to the high population of tea-loving nationalities in Northern California, I prefer to scout out the mom-and-pop tea shops instead.  The only reason I would ever stop by a Teavana is for the free samples that they hand out at the front of the store.  After obtaining my my pixie cup, I would pretend to browse through the products and then leave as soon as my cup was empty.

This time, however, I had another purpose: to buy tea.  I swung by the branch in the Prudential Center, as that was the most convenient location.  As usual, the cheerful (though almost too cheerful) employee offered me a sample of their latest tea: Mango Oolong.  It sounded fantastic on paper, but it tasted like candy water—ew.  Eager to make a sale, the employee followed me around the store trying to figure out what type of tea I was looking for.  I figured that if he was going to pester me while I was trying to make a decision, then I was going to milk this interaction as much as I could.  Can I get a sample of this?  Could I get a sample of that?  How about that one wayyyy up there?

As I walked around, I noticed how tiny the shop was.  I bumped into employees left and right as I made my way around the store.  This store is way overstaffed—there are more employees than customers!  As soon as I processed this information, I noticed that now there was not one, but two employees following me around.  What is this?!  While I was perusing the selection of tea leaves on the opposite wall, I suppose heard the second employee whisper to my initial assistant to return to his territory. Territories?  What is this—a plot of land for sale?  I finally made my decision and settled for some Jasmine Dragon Pearls and was excited to soon be leaving this cramped store.  Instead, the second employee ushered me to an idle third employee, who seemed to be both startled and excited by my presence.  A countertop separated me from my new host, who immediately began to point at the assortment of teas neatly filed away in the wall display behind him.  Ok, this seems redundant.  Why can’t they just give me the tin of tea I was looking at?  Counter Boy then proceeded to explain the pricing policies to me: buy tea by the ounce with the option of buying various containers as well.  He wrapped up his spiel by informing me that the smaller tins that I had initially chosen were out of stock.

“That’s fine.  Can you fill up half of the big tin?”

“Ok, but you’ll get a better deal if you fill up the whole tin.”

“Alright, how much would that be then?”

“Only $80.”

Holy shit, $80 for tea?!?!  And what do you mean only?  Do I look like someone who uses $100 bills to wipe my butt?!

“Can you just fill up a quarter tin?  I don’t even need that much tea.  I’ll be drinking this by myself.”

“Ok, that’ll be $15.  But it’ll be a better deal if you just get the whole tin.”

-Calculates in head.  Wouldn’t the total be $60?–

“Are you suuuure you want to only get a quarter tin?  It’s a better price per pound so essentially you’d be saving x amount of dollars!”

–Recalculating-  15 x 4 = 60, right?  I know I haven’t taken a math class since senior year of high school, but 15 + 15 = 30 and 30 + 30 = 60, right?  And 60 < 80.

“Yeah, I’m fine with just a quarter tin.”

“But seriously, you’ll be saving x amount of dollars!  And this means that you won’t have to come back for a while!”

It was at this point that I could no longer tolerate their mathematically incorrect sales pitch, got up from my stool, and proceeded to leave.

Except I couldn’t.

I was trapped!  I turned around and wanted to make a grand escape through what I thought was a second exit, but no such door existed.  I felt like a fool when I was met with a pane of glass.  Whoops, that was awkward—so much for storming off.  I tried to weave through the employees to get to the front, but there were too many of them blocking the tiny pathway!  They all bombarded me with special offers and exclaimed that this was my opportunity to score a limited edition tin can!  Even when I got to the front door, I was blocked by the sample station and the various customers who were there trying the water candy.  Man, this place was a serious fire hazard.  At first, the layout and size of the store irked me because I had to take baby steps in order to avoid crashing into the table displays and the employees.  But now, my dislike of the layout stemmed from the fact that it was designed to keep you from exiting the store!

Teavana—never again.