I imagined it was pool-sized. I dived in, did a doggy-paddle past a stray ice cube and then back-stroked to the straw. Back in the real world, a few sips of the Bakeshop iced latte were like slipping on a frozen raincoat. My temples stopped pulsing and the moving lips of my girlfriend started to make words I recognized. Be warned if you come to Tokyo in August, it's hot. Stroke-inducing, lung-collapsing hot.
After a few bites of the banana muffin I told myself "at least the coffee is excellent." Not bad, but designed for local tastes, I guessed. Overly dense and underly sweet.
It's like a bright white refrigerator and I played the part of a happy, chilled cucumber sitting there. When it was time to go, I mentally wilted. The thought of going into the Tokyo oven again was enough to make a man cry. "Another iced latte please!!!"
IDEE SHOP 4th Floor