how you bitches hanging? i'd love to blame my absence on economic status or government-sanctioned internet rations, but to be frank, i've been busy and didn't care as much. tho here i am.
so where do i start?
starbucks. i feel like that name garners so much frustration and negative empathy that i needn't even go on. but like to true bitcher i am, i will.
so i'm not even that big of a coffee drinker--the last thing i need is more energy--but certain days require a liiiittle more motivation than others, so i find myself either enduring the painfully slow line at the LPQ for an only half-full cup of marginal coffee, or subjecting myself to an even longer line, completely ludicrous methods of communication (are those headsets really necessary) and a robotic staff of mentally retarded baristas for a too-hot cup of overroasted coffee. today i opted for starbucks, call me a masochist.
so yeah, after i placed my order with what seemed like 74 different people, i received my steaming hot cup of burnt black and proceeded over to the condiment bar to dress it up. sugar, sugar in the raw, sweet-n-low, splenda, skin, half-and-half, whole--WAIT a second--where's the soy? where the FUCK is the soy milk? yeah--not OUT, that's where. i had to ask for it, which required an additional wait in line, not to mention several eye rolls. now i'm prompted to really ask starbucks, "OK--what is the secret with the soy?" it's bad enough they charge me extra for my lactose intolerance ($.75 on a soy latte, thankssss) but now they hide the incidental soy milk behind the counter. are they just imposing stinginess clauses in their new constitution? or perhaps zev siegl had a torrid affair with the youngest daughter of the world's soy import commission president, and decided to spread his animosity worldwide by imposing extra charges on all those who sought the lactose-free milk substitute.
whatever the reason, i think it's mighty fucked up that i have to both pay extra and ask for alternatives to better suit my digestive proclivities. thanks.
next up--those crazy bitches at wholefoods.
i don't know what it is about the place--could be that the natural/organic fare goes hand-in-hand with slothlike granola people--but why the eff does wholefoods attract such retards? sorry gals, but most of the time it's you. these women come in wearing multiple layers, even in summertime, always topped off by a large coat, sometimes shorts over leggings, almost always sporting fair isle knit hats with pom poms on top of an unbrushed, unruly, and UNRIGHT mop of hair, usually carrying some oversized hemp bag, and alllllllllways wearing lesbian shoes, some experimental ergonomic footwear, usually supported by an oddly-shaped heel or an excessively rounded toe. either way, they swarm and huddle around the prepared food section, slowly moving to inspect each selection, actually reading every ingredient listed on the card that corresponds to each one, and taking their sweet, granola time, like nobody's actually there to serve themselves. then when you push them out of the way or reach directly in front of them to take something, they look at you like, "how dare you invade my weirdo space to make the intended use of this table of food?" listen, granola bitches--there's a place for you and it's called westerly health foods on 8th avenue. the aisles are nice and narrow for you to clog up, and there are more labels than you'll know what to do with. so go read away nice and slow because the union square whole foods don't wantchu all up in thurr.