Sitting in yet another Starbucks, this time in Brooklyn, I am really starting to hate myself for being here. Let me describe my surroundings.
Sitting to my immediate right is a mid-twenties gentleman on his brand new Mac. He is wearing black thick rimmed glasses, a plaid shirt, tight jeans, and has big headphones on (he is blasting music and it sounds like he’s got the Shins on repeat. I currently just threw up in my mouth over the thought). In addition to having his Mac laptop open, he’s got a novel open to the side of it. Shocking, he can read a novel, check out the latest Shins news online while listening to the Shins. I’m pretty sure you need six eyes to do this, but he is doing it with two. Quite impressive.
To my left is a woman in a pantsuit (no, not Hillary Clinton). She is middle aged and is yelling at no one it seems, but in one of her ears she has a little blue tooth piece. She is caling some guy an idiot and complaining that her coffee isn’t hot enough.
Meanwhile, I am sitting here, drinking my vanilla bean frappucino. The reason why I seem so mad is that little pieces of ice keep clogging my straw, so I’ve been working on this tall (small for normal well-adjusted people) cup for a half hour. This, in combination with the people here, are why I will never come to a Starbucks again.