The blog post you are about to enjoy is very funny
Today I left work a little early and went to Starbucks for a cup of coffee and to think. I don’t know why I went to Starbucks thinking that I could think there. It’s a noisy place, especially late in the day, and I always end up eavesdropping on other conversations. The more horseshit the conversation the more rapt I am. Today I was seated next to a couple of high school seniors – a boy and a girl – talking about the colleges they were considering. The guy had been accepted at a pretty mediocre school here in Virginia. “I’m going to ____,” he said, “because it was the only school to accept me and it’s out of town and I need to get the hell out of here.” Well at least he was honest; I gave him credit for that. The girl was well trained in teen-age girl speak, you know like when you say “you know” and “like” a lot and every sentence ends up sounding like a question? She said, “I’m like still waiting to hear from ____, like they would accept me? Especially with my SAT scores? Not like my grades are really trashy or anything, you know, ‘cause they’re okay and all, but ____ requires that they be like perfect, you know? So, I also applied to ____, you know, as a back up? Except, you know, last week, I visited ____, and who did I see but Bobby ____ and I’m like if Bobby ____ is going to ____ then, like, I can’t go there, you know?”
If you had a couple hundred thousand dollars to spend, and were given the option of investing in the education of these two or teaching a monkey to play the piano, which would you choose?
Either I have never noticed before or there is new writing on the cardboard sleeve Starbucks gives you to put around your coffee cup. You know those sleeves that provide an extra layer of protection against burning your fingers? Well, they now say: “The beverage you are about to enjoy is very hot.” There is something about that statement that really bugs me. Well, two things, actually. The beverage I am about to enjoy? A bit presumptuous, isn’t it? What if I hate coffee, but I just need a jolt of caffeine because I am about to drive through the night? What if it is one of those limited edition blends where virgin girls from New Guinea chew the raw coffee beans and spit them into a bowl adding that special bold flavor that the Starbucks taster loves but I think tastes like, well, spit? Then there’s the cautionary note about the coffee being hot. Excuse me, but didn’t I reach for the cardboard sleeve because the coffee was hot? Didn’t I already make that association? It’s like that warning on plastic bags from the dry cleaners: “Putting this bag over a baby’s head could result in death.” Why do people club baby seals when there are so many lawyers around?
I worked myself into a tizzy over that ten-word phrase on the Starbucks sleeve. It’s hard to know why things work me up sometimes. I wanted to talk to someone about it. I even considered mentioning it to the high school kids, but the girl was on a roll, going on about how unfair her parents were for not letting her pierce her tongue: “I mean, it’s like a tongue, you know? They should be glad it’s not my ____”
By the way, my money’s on the monkey.
10:18:41 PM 
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