An Open Letter To Starbucks

The unrelenting forced politeness of modern-day American corporate retail is enough to make me want to commit acts of such savage incivility that I would make the Mongols look like hordes of Mister Rogers on horseback. I know that the directives from your corporate headquarters dictate that you mouth at least five fucking greetings to every customer—excuse me, make that guest—but I’m too hung-over and it’s too early for me to even talk, let alone be remotely chatty. So just take my money, hand over my cup of over-priced coffee, accept my grunt as communication, and we can go our separate ways. I don’t mean to be a downer but the fact that you exhort others to “have a great day” will not lighten the oppressive burden of human existence.

Maybe if I got up at 5 a.m., after eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, and had downed seven double espressos I would be as cheery as everyone who works here. I didn’t get up at 5 a.m., I haven’t had any coffee, and I sure as shit didn’t get anywhere near eight hours of sleep—not for the entire week. So, can we just leave out about 99% of the painfully-forced pleasantries and get on with the business transaction? And by the way, I’m not a “guest.” If I were a guest you would give me the coffee instead of charging me the equivalent of the suggested monthly donation to Save the Children for my cappuccino.