One of the exceptions to this rule seems to be Starbucks.
My family and I went in to a Beirut Starbucks so my mom could get her caffeine fix, and I was immediately struck by how familiar the store felt. The walls were a sand-tinted beige, the tables and chairs dark brown, and large couches were placed in the corner. You could order a tall caramel macchiato, grande cinnamon dolce crème frappuccino, or a venti iced pumpkin spice latte. Plus the store was playing some light jazz, with a mandatory heavy emphasis on saxophone rifts. Displays tempted you to buy a "Christmas Blend" bag of coffee beans or an over sized plastic coffee mug that was plastered with art-deco images of New York.
My own gateway to America, smack dab in the middle of the Arabian peninsula.
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