As I write this, the universe is kicking me in the bum. With a Grande All No-Water Soy Chai Latte, if you must know.
Eleven minutes ago, a friend called me. As an active consumer of locally grown and made goods and services, he was understandably less-than thrilled when I mentioned I was on my way here, with my laptop, to my friendly neighborhood Starbucks.
Well, the nearest one of them, anyway. Within a 2 mile radius of my apartment there’s three locations.
Okay, four.
It’s ridiculously noisy in here. But not in that comfortable background-noise-of-a-quaint-café-mugs-clinking way. It's more of a whiny-teens-and-soccer-moms-and-baristas-who-are-too-cool-to-be-here way.
And it smells like a Wonka Factory with HVAC issues.
And it looks like a JCPenny’s Christmas display store room exploded.
And it’s about as warm as a mid-January beet slaw salad.
The only seat available is the one I'm now in, next to the entrance. And there’s no outlet within power-cord distance so I can’t plug in my laptop which gives me about forty three minutes to write.
But I've got my Grande All No-Water Soy Chai Latte. And it's really yummy. I've got my laptop with it's remaining minutes of power. I'm writing and I'm happy. But then, I have to ask my conscience why it's so unsettled?
Me: Hey, conscience...
My Conscience: What now?
Me: Why are you so unsettled?
My Conscience: Because you're supporting the commercialization of Christmas, that's why.
Me: Hey, I support NO such thing!
My Conscience: Then, why are you sitting there? As a Starbucks patron you epitomize the commericalization of Christmas. Just look around!
Me: Good point.
My Conscience: That wasn't rhetorical, Erica. Seriously. Look around at the advertisements. Then, shut your laptop and leave.
Me: Okay. You're right. I'm leaving.
[PAUSE]
My Conscience: What are you doing?
Me: Finishing my latte first.
Me: Hey, I support NO such thing!
My Conscience: Then, why are you sitting there? As a Starbucks patron you epitomize the commericalization of Christmas. Just look around!
Me: Good point.
My Conscience: That wasn't rhetorical, Erica. Seriously. Look around at the advertisements. Then, shut your laptop and leave.
Me: Okay. You're right. I'm leaving.
[PAUSE]
My Conscience: What are you doing?
Me: Finishing my latte first.
My Conscience: Get up. Now. Your car is eight feet away. You’ve paid your stupid five dollars for warm milk. Get up--
Me: --Ok! I’m leaving.
My Conscience: Good.
[PAUSE]
Me: Wait...
My Conscience: What?
Me: Not like this. I can’t just leave my favorite writing place with a such bad taste in my mouth. It’s kind of like all those episodes of “Full House” when Danny or Uncle Jesse would remind the girls to "Never leave a room angry." They needed resolution.
My Conscience: Uh...ok.
Me: Hey, remember cute little Stephanie? She’d always say “How rude!” whenever someone was out of line. What a sap. I never liked --stop touching my Latte! I’m not done, yet.
My Conscience: I don’t care. This whole place is evil. Your drink is evil.
Me: But it tastes so good. And it helps me concentrate.
My Conscience: Fine. But here comes the Guilt Fairy.
Me: Crap.
Guilt Fairy: Hi, guys!
My Conscience: You’re late.
Guilt Fairy: I know. I’m really sorry. I was coming from a diabetes awareness rally, but I gave my environmentally-safe and solar powered scooter to a homeless guy then rescued some puppies from a puppy mill that was on fire and I would have taken a bio-diesel taxi here, but I donated my money to charity. Again. Hey, Erica, did you know that the electricity it took to make your latte could run a small African village for forty-seven hours?
Me: Fine. Just...do you guys want a drink or not?
My Conscience: If by drink you mean: something with which to slap you upside the head, sure.
Guilt Fairy: Nothing for me, thanks. I’m on a hunger strike to raise awareness of exploited Malaysian slave children forced to work in sub-standard factories making over-priced hideous sweaters like the one you’re currently wearing, but, do you think I can get an ice water?
Me: Even if it comes in a plastic cup and plastic lid with a plastic straw?
Guilt Fairy: Oh, I’d never get it like that. I have my own re-usable water bottle, here. See? It’s the same one my uncle used when he gave all his possessions to a halfway house then built that orphanage for dyslexic blind kids. Did you know it takes fifty-six months for biodegradable plastics --such as that lid on your latte-- to break down in a compost pile? That’s more than enough time for any baby seal or dolphin to get it’s mouth trapped or it’s little flipper stuck, thus rendering it--
And here's when I usually tune them out. Or try to. It’s difficult sometimes, separating my conscience from my guilt. Typically, they’re inseparable and agree on everything.
I know there’s two sides to every coin and if someone asked me to justify my love of Starbucks, I'd be happy to.
It's where I go to catch up with Aunt Margo. It's where Morgan and I go when Hannah steps on the phone. It's how Amanda and I got through grad school. It's how I get my book written.
And save for the barista currently swearing at the cappucino machine, the employees I've met are happy to be here. They love coffee. They love making coffee the way we like it. Students study here. Friends talk here. Couples overshare their feelings here. And as likely as it is that Christmas is selling Starbucks, I can’t help but hope that the reverse is also true.
I mean, how many of us out there go to our corporate or local coffee shops, get our warm and tasty pick-me-ups for the day and find ourselves just a little bit warmer? A little more alert? A little post-sip happier?
A dang good number of us, I’d say.
And yes this world, this country has corruption and deceit and grey areas, but have you read your coffee cup today? Printed all over the Starbucks paraphernalia including mugs, cups, banners, gift-cards, aprons...just about everywhere save for a tattoo across the baristas’ foreheads is the Starbucks holiday slogan for 2007:
Pass the Cheer.
And as you've pointed out to me, Dad, the power of suggestion is no small force. Talk about product placement for happiness. If 2/3 of this country is drinking Starbucks everyday, then that’s a heck of a lot of people being encouraged to pass the cheer. It could be worse.
Guilt Fairy: Not if you grow your own coffee beans and grind them by hand, like I–OW!
My Conscience: That was a warning. She’s got a point.
Me: Hey, are you two disagreeing on something?
My Conscience: No.
Guilt Fairy: No.
My Conscience: This bites. I’m outta here!
D.J. from Full House: No you don’t. Dad says never leave a room angry.
Guilt Fairy: Do you have any idea how many workers were exploited to build this room?
My Conscience: Do you have any idea how annoying you are?
Stephanie from Full House: How rude.
Starbucks Barista: Who ordered the round of Venti Peppermint Cup-O-Cheer Soy Mocha?
Me: Wait...
My Conscience: What?
Me: Not like this. I can’t just leave my favorite writing place with a such bad taste in my mouth. It’s kind of like all those episodes of “Full House” when Danny or Uncle Jesse would remind the girls to "Never leave a room angry." They needed resolution.
My Conscience: Uh...ok.
Me: Hey, remember cute little Stephanie? She’d always say “How rude!” whenever someone was out of line. What a sap. I never liked --stop touching my Latte! I’m not done, yet.
My Conscience: I don’t care. This whole place is evil. Your drink is evil.
Me: But it tastes so good. And it helps me concentrate.
My Conscience: Fine. But here comes the Guilt Fairy.
Me: Crap.
Guilt Fairy: Hi, guys!
My Conscience: You’re late.
Guilt Fairy: I know. I’m really sorry. I was coming from a diabetes awareness rally, but I gave my environmentally-safe and solar powered scooter to a homeless guy then rescued some puppies from a puppy mill that was on fire and I would have taken a bio-diesel taxi here, but I donated my money to charity. Again. Hey, Erica, did you know that the electricity it took to make your latte could run a small African village for forty-seven hours?
Me: Fine. Just...do you guys want a drink or not?
My Conscience: If by drink you mean: something with which to slap you upside the head, sure.
Guilt Fairy: Nothing for me, thanks. I’m on a hunger strike to raise awareness of exploited Malaysian slave children forced to work in sub-standard factories making over-priced hideous sweaters like the one you’re currently wearing, but, do you think I can get an ice water?
Me: Even if it comes in a plastic cup and plastic lid with a plastic straw?
Guilt Fairy: Oh, I’d never get it like that. I have my own re-usable water bottle, here. See? It’s the same one my uncle used when he gave all his possessions to a halfway house then built that orphanage for dyslexic blind kids. Did you know it takes fifty-six months for biodegradable plastics --such as that lid on your latte-- to break down in a compost pile? That’s more than enough time for any baby seal or dolphin to get it’s mouth trapped or it’s little flipper stuck, thus rendering it--
And here's when I usually tune them out. Or try to. It’s difficult sometimes, separating my conscience from my guilt. Typically, they’re inseparable and agree on everything.
I know there’s two sides to every coin and if someone asked me to justify my love of Starbucks, I'd be happy to.
It's where I go to catch up with Aunt Margo. It's where Morgan and I go when Hannah steps on the phone. It's how Amanda and I got through grad school. It's how I get my book written.
And save for the barista currently swearing at the cappucino machine, the employees I've met are happy to be here. They love coffee. They love making coffee the way we like it. Students study here. Friends talk here. Couples overshare their feelings here. And as likely as it is that Christmas is selling Starbucks, I can’t help but hope that the reverse is also true.
I mean, how many of us out there go to our corporate or local coffee shops, get our warm and tasty pick-me-ups for the day and find ourselves just a little bit warmer? A little more alert? A little post-sip happier?
A dang good number of us, I’d say.
And yes this world, this country has corruption and deceit and grey areas, but have you read your coffee cup today? Printed all over the Starbucks paraphernalia including mugs, cups, banners, gift-cards, aprons...just about everywhere save for a tattoo across the baristas’ foreheads is the Starbucks holiday slogan for 2007:
Pass the Cheer.
And as you've pointed out to me, Dad, the power of suggestion is no small force. Talk about product placement for happiness. If 2/3 of this country is drinking Starbucks everyday, then that’s a heck of a lot of people being encouraged to pass the cheer. It could be worse.
Guilt Fairy: Not if you grow your own coffee beans and grind them by hand, like I–OW!
My Conscience: That was a warning. She’s got a point.
Me: Hey, are you two disagreeing on something?
My Conscience: No.
Guilt Fairy: No.
My Conscience: This bites. I’m outta here!
D.J. from Full House: No you don’t. Dad says never leave a room angry.
Guilt Fairy: Do you have any idea how many workers were exploited to build this room?
My Conscience: Do you have any idea how annoying you are?
Stephanie from Full House: How rude.
Starbucks Barista: Who ordered the round of Venti Peppermint Cup-O-Cheer Soy Mocha?
Me: Me!
