(A short, preferably unnecessary article by Greg Walsh)
I went to Starbucks today (got it… my fault, and I get what I get), and during the attempted assimilation I ended up having a brief but memorable conversation.
When in such settings I attempt invisibility, am cordial and specific, and also attempt to be as efficient as that sort of process allows. Their job must be extremely trying- everyone “wants” something, no one “needs” any of it, people demand as opposed to asking, and there is a level of impatience to it all that confuses me; It’s a motherfucking luxury drink, goofballs. Keep your expensive fucking pants on.
I was wearing one of Wolf Brigade’s earliest shirts, which says “Physical Culturalists” on the back.
The obviously waiting to die/ gave up a long time ago 40-something male behind me in line began a conversation with the back of my head: “Hey, what’s a physical culturalist?” Assuming he was talking to me, although no proper indication was given, I turned and responded “Well, we would define it as someone that looks at physical training and movement as more than simply lifting weights or something.”
In his defense, he did take a second to absorb what I had said, and then responded snarkily with “Oh… you mean like steroids and shit… “. I also took a second, and simply responded with “No, we mean, like, thinking and shit”.
I looked at him in a way that even to the dullest of dullards would signal the end of the current conversation or the potential for an unpleasant new one, and then turned back around.
After ordering my drink I listened to him “order” his. “I’ve got a free drink coming and I want a venti mocha frappucino with a banana, two extra shots of espresso, and caramel. The coupon doesn’t say there is any limitations on the drink”.
No, my friend. There… are no limitations… to your free drink at Starbucks.
Image stolen from Nausea