How to find a sticky chai in the wild

This is not comedy–it’s a survival guide.

When I tell people I gave up coffee in 2016, they look at me like I’ve just confessed to something so horrific I can’t possibly be human. Like Cersei Lannister is my favourite Game of Thrones character; I chew with my mouth open; or I wear the same underwear all week.

Side note: when RaRa and I first started dating, his red flag for me? He thought I’d worn the same underwear three days in a row. Calvin Klein had a really good sale, and I just happened to really dig that colour, okay…!

It’s like the listener glitches in that exact moment — they simply can’t compute how else you can start the day.

Let me tell you, finding a chai in the wild is no easy feat. It’s like being on Alone, relying on survival instincts and niche skills, like crouching down to identify tracks in the mud. If you can’t spot the signs, you will go thirsty.

Are you at the airport?

Unless you’re in Melbourne — home of the OG hipsters — there is no way in hot drink hell you’ll find a sticky chai at the airport. For some reason, it’s that feral powdered “spiced chai” or nothing. Seeing spiced chai on the menu is usually a dead giveaway that the sticky chai is extinct around these parts.

What newspapers are available?

You know, those old black-and-white inked things people read when they have no one to talk to at a café? The more conservative the content, the more likely the café worships powdered chai. I don’t know why conservatives have become the poster children for powdered chai — maybe because boomers invented sugar (and salt… why so much salt?).

It’s no secret our forefathers and mothers were perfectly happy drinking Nescafé granules loaded with two teaspoons of sugar, to wash down a greasy $9 egg-and-bacon breakfast special, while tsk-tsking at foreign concepts like gender fluidity.

The more progressive the attitudes, the more progressive the sweetener. Pass me the honey, honey.

What coffee brand are they serving?

This may seem counterintuitive in an article about finding a good sticky chai out in the wild, but stay with me here. If the café serves Toby’s Estate or Vittoria, give it a wide berth. I mean, coffee snobs would steer clear anyway — and the same rule applies if you’re looking for anything that’s actually good, chai included.

Does the café look like it was styled by a straight or gay man?

I think you know where I’m going with this. If the café oozes style and colour palettes that would make Coco Chanel weep — with little flourishes that just work — then you can bet there’s a good sticky chai on the menu, and the only powdered stuff is nose chai.

If, on the other hand, the café feels like a navy couch without throw pillows, overhead lights blazing at full interrogation strength, and an IKEA coffee table rescued from council pickup — congratulations, you’ve found powdered chai headquarters.

So there you have it — your survival guide to sticky chai in the wild. Stay sharp, trust the signs, and remember: not all chai is created equal. Powder is for boomers and regret; sticky chai is for the chosen ones.

Happy hunting, honey.