I was dreaming the other day about the perfect coffee bar.

I start with a Starbucks.

It’s got Metro style down, for sure. Leather seating, soft lighting, tables looking onto whatever street life there is. But I go in and, alas, every decent seat has been taken by a member of the leisured adolescent class. The 18 year olds are frozen in place, staring into their laptops. Their earnest mugs speak of creativity – like they’re writing an indie film script, starting a startup or composing a term paper. In reality, most of them are playing video games or e-mailing half of MySpace. Some are watching feature movies.

Now, they paid top dollar for their Frappuccinos and, so, have the same rights as anyone else to park their rear in a Starbucks club chair. So I tell myself, “Get over it,” and I almost do.

Let me suggest a compromise: Hang a sign above the chairs saying use of them is limited to 30 minutes if others are waiting. This is similar to the messages posted near the treadmills at health clubs. I appreciate this move would chip at the Starbucks aura. It suggests that while the coffee bar may be a home away from home and a refuge from work, the seats are not being rented by the week.

About the coffee. I really do like the Starbucks latte. In the interest of accurate reporting, however, let me cite a recent and surprising Consumer Reports taste-test that took Starbucks down a peg: The CR judges declared McDonald’s new premium coffee superior to the Starbucks entry. It also cost 20 cents less. We’re talking basic black here – a medium cup of Joe. McD’s does not diversify into half-caf, caramel macchiato, green tea or other Starbucks formulations.

And no one’s talking environment, either. McDonald’s is a fast-food, get-em-in, get-em-out burger joint. It’s not a serene place in which to pursue artistic thoughts. In any case, a pure coffee experience is hard to achieve among the griddle fumes.

There is a third coffee way, which is the Dunkin’ Donuts approach. Dunkin’ combines a coffee-centric philosophy with fast-food efficiency. Lacking the amenities of a Starbucks, it doesn’t open opportunities to nurse grievances over seating. But here’s a shocker: Consumer Reports found the medium cup of plain coffee cost 10 cents more at Dunkin’ Donuts than at Starbucks. Furthermore, the judges said the coffee, while inoffensive, “had no oomph.” (Let me note many of my discerning friends still swear by Dunkin’ Donuts’ brew.)

I guess the perfect coffee establishment would be my own private Starbucks. I’d float in at 3 p.m., just as my tall latte comes steaming out from behind the counter. Some other changes: The cups would not have quotations carefully balanced for all sides of the culture war. The biscotti in the plastic wrap would not be broken in five places. In fact, there wouldn’t be any plastic wrap. And when I moved to the fat leather chair near a fireplace, I would put the cup down on a CLEAN table.

Of course, I don’t have my own private Starbucks. I stand in line and watch the customer in front flirt extensively with the attractive person taking orders. Then I wait while the barista concocts someone’s peppermint mocha 13/4-percent cappuccino. When my simple latte comes out, I carry it out past the lineup of stress-free youth with their feet on the furniture. Some of them would have noticed my tense taxpayer’s smile, if they weren’t playing Supreme Commander on the laptop.

Clearly, I love Starbucks, otherwise I wouldn’t go there. But dream I do of certain improvements.

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To find out more about Froma Harrop, and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at the following web link.