Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Your Own Grande Jesus

Oh Starbucks. In an attempt to be hip, you make yourself dated to people like me.
Jesus belongs in the coffeehouse, per Starbucks. Normally, I'd get all uppity about this, but let's face it. Starbucks lost all credibility with the genuine thinkers when they annihilated most local coffee places (RIP, Curious Liquids) so they may as well continue their takeover of our coffee supply. I'd threaten to boycott Starbucks, but I don't go there much anyway since it's expensive and I largely hate the "gimmegimmemycoffeeNOWcollegestudentIambusyonmyheadsetcellphone" clientele. And, to be honest, I'm used to drinking coffee from a holy vessel.
Those of you from Rhode Island and Connecticut may remember a great chain by the name of Bess Eaton. Ol' Bess was known for being the bastard Dunkin. Inexpensive coffee, pastries and plastic seating. The only differences were Bess' watered-down coffee coming in an awe-inspiring 22oz THE TANK if it struck your fancy. Also, all of Bess Eaton's coffee cups came with a little quote.
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Now if anybody was about to get her knickers in a knot about Jesus being everywhere, it's me circa 1999. But, at some point, you've got to weigh your priorities. 22oz of coffee (sweet, delicious, nectar-of-the-gods coffee) or disliking the preaching of religion in a setting where it didn't really matter? Turns out, I'll take coffee, every time.
So when I get bored at work and need a walk, I'll take a stroll to Starbucks and shell out $5 for a gingerbread latte and take my corporate ass-fuck with a little Christian-inspired morality.

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