They seem excited.
Anxious to see this unveiling of mass proportions. Eager to see what is known in this town as big-city ways.
Just a few weeks earlier the Home Depot came in, and now—well, now more big-city things must come, don't you think?
Drum roll, ladies and gentlemen. It is the beloved (deity), fabled (nightmare), (obsessively) worshiped Starbucks that is here to rowdy in town.
Ah! The joy and happiness these people shall feel as they greedily suck down their caffeine messes, hooked on a drug they don't want to accept. Ah! How they will savor the sweet energy that throws the blanket over the brain-cage and blinds it to weariness. Oh! How caffeine, how coffee in all its false splendor of endorphins and the receptor-blockers shall make their lives more simplistic! How help has finally arrived!
…but what, say you, is bad about this business? Has it not brought happiness? Has it not brought the world a bit of goodness disguised in a simple Styrofoam—it is Styrofoam, isn't it?—cup?
Maybe so. I sip reflexively at my own Chai as I rant of the cruelty and danger of becoming so addicted to a label, but maybe a little bit of Styrofoam happiness won't kill anybody.
Another sip. A low headache throbs at the back of the brain.
A/N: Dearest readers and read-nots, I hope you take this either lightly or with a somewhat intellectual outlook. I myself used to love Starbucks when I lived in the BIG CITY, but now that I've been forced to live in a place reminicent of Limbo, Hell, my beliefs have changed.
So: to those Starbucks addicts in the like--don't bite my head off. But reconsider, eh? Isn't it a kinda fun, spooky idea?