Only one instance involved me purchasing a coffee. (The line at Tim Hortons was too long and I can’t go back to Blenz because I made a comment… look, this blog isn’t about me.)

It’s about Starbucks.

Generally I am very pleased when big corporations begin to go bankrupt. I’m not this big, anti-conglomerate socialist guy or anything; merely because I am a contrarian, and that applies to other people’s success.  “Why should your company be so big and powerful?  I will enjoy watching you burn.”

Baristas

Webster’s dictionary defines “barista” as “a person who works at the counter of a coffee shop”. Andrew’s dictionary describes a “barista” as “a fancy word for ‘register monkey’”.

I’m not going to slag on the people that work at the Bucks. It’s a job, a menial job still; however unlike other jobs, Starbucks seems to promote this kind of community, a lifestyle of sorts. Come sit in our designer chairs and drink your lattes and discuss the latest episode of “So You Think You Can Dance”.  Crap. Family meetings belong in the living room where mom can cry and dad can curse and little sister can ask you why everyone is yelling.

Bankrupting the Mexican Bean Farmer

Giant coffee chains are destroying an industry through price controlling and old-fashioned corporate bullying. Starbucks, Folgers, Nestle and Kraft are in bed with the government agencies in the United States and UK of which set the prices for bulk bean importing. Prices by the kilo are kept down, the firms are happy to pay less, and the farmers are struggling.

This should ignite rage, if not at least minor peeving.

Vanilla Bullshit

Coffee is coffee. Black, two and two, sweet and low. Maybe a tea. Hot chocolate or French Vanilla too.  But double frappeed mochas with whip cream and chocolate shavings is a fucking dessert cake, not a morning pick-me-up.

Who doesn’t like pie?  I see no hands going up, because everyone likes pie.  But we don’t drink grounded-pie milkshakes for breakfast. We could, but we don’t.

Case closed.

Final Arghs

I enjoy coffee as much as the next bastard. But nine dollar coffee, served by over-enthusiastic twenty-somethings in green aprons is not something I can get behind.

The next time you pass a Starbucks, find a heavy object which can be heaved through glass.

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