I have a confession to make. Despite implementation of your new 2025 Starbucks Code of Conduct intended to “enhance the cafe experience” and boost sales, I’m still only interested in you for one thing.

No, it’s not your iced caramel macchiato. It’s not your baristas with gauged earlobes and pink hair. It’s not your cooler-than-thou ambiance, replete with black-and-white photography and the din of folksy alternative tunes. It’s not your prepackaged focaccia or your mini vanilla scones. And it’s not the superiority I feel using quasi-European terms like “venti” and “grande.”

Truth be told, I’m using you for your Wi-Fi.

Sure, I have internet access and good coffee at home, but I can’t seem to get anything done there. There are too many reasons to procrastinate – a pantry full of snacks, a dog to scratch, a DVR’s worth of reality shows, cozy beds for naps.

So, I come to you to fulfill my needs. Our exchange is sleazy, yet fair: I buy your overpriced coffee, and you give me unlimited Internet access. However, as long as you are looking for ways to “enhance the cafe experience,” I’ll offer a few suggestions.

First, stop freezing people to death. You shouldn’t thermo-bully your customers into buying more coffee by keeping the temp at a frigid 65 degrees. In summer, I get so cold in your blasting AC, I’m jealous of the smokers who are banished to the outdoor café tables. I’d gladly inhale their secondhand carcinogens for a little warmth if my computer screen was visible in sunlight. I’m sometimes tempted to huddle in the women’s bathroom under the hand dryer, exposing my jugular vein to hot air until my blood temperature comes back from the brink of hypothermia.

This mention of bathrooms brings me to my second suggestion. You’ve now banned the general public from your restrooms, but why not simply clean them? Your toilets are veritable petri dishes of contagion. You pump sugar-free vanilla syrup into your grande skinny cappuccino — why not squirt a little bowl cleaner into the toilets? While you’re at it, spritz a bit of common household cleaner on that ring of scum around the faucet, too. Just a thought.

Lastly, you advertise free Wi-Fi, so please discourage your employees from giving me the evil eye when I stay for five hours sipping the same venti blonde roast. We both know it’s gone cold, but I don’t want another cup. So, unless you add another rule to your new code of conduct mandating that patrons “buy a drink an hour” like some kind of New Orleans strip joint, I’ll leave when I’m darned well ready.

Or, have your baristas been giving me the cold shoulder (pun absolutely intended) because I don’t fit the Starbucks corporate image? At your weekly employee meetings, have you discussed strategies to get rid of that frumpy mom semi-permanently perched in a chair? Are my middle-aged paunch and gray roots cramping your style?

I must admit, sometimes it’s hard to leave because people-watching in your establishment is so entertaining. The stereotypical Starbucks patrons — thin and stylish, with artificially whitened teeth and naturally inflated egos — are a fascinating subspecies. The men feel no shame ordering fancy Frappuccinos, as long as they do it while talking loudly into earbuds about “brand merchandising” and “periodic image assessments.”

Some women wear barrel-legged jeans and moto-boho jackets, while chatting at the café tables about their relationships. Others are hip moms who willingly pay double digits for chocolate soy milk and cake pops so their kids can freeze their Huggies offwhile they guzzle cold brews and inhale protein boxes.

I find it all wildly entertaining, and a nice distraction from the work on my laptop.

I may be pretty steamed about your chilly atmosphere, tepid employee attitudes and foul bathroom facilities, but I’ll continue to pad your greedy coffee coffers each week, as long as you keep offering me the unlimited free Wi-Fi I need.

I respect that you’re trying to improve your customers’ experience, Starbucks. But let’s face it, we’ve had this naughty little Wi-Fi arrangement for years, and although we aren’t in love with each other, it works.

Read more at themeatandpotatoesoflife.com and in Lisa’s book, “The Meat and Potatoes of Life: My True Lit Com.” Email: meatandpotatoesoflife@gmail.com