today is sunday, october 30, and i write this while sitting at a starbucks and pondering on the vague discomfort that comes just by being at a starbucks. you see, i'm here because officemate
steph, in a commendable act of charity, handed me a coupon for a free "tall" sized drink (a "Mocha Frappuccino", in this case), which i upsized to a "venti" (which is supposed to be the largest drink size in the starbucks scheme of things, which is funny because for the uninitiated, like yours truly, "tall", supposedly the smallest, actually sounds taller than "venti") for a mere P30 add-on. the coupon and starbucks'
claims to corporate responsibility notwithstanding, me going to a starbucks for coffee still feels like supporting this whole global (but seemingly crumbling) capitalist system, with its accompanying notions of economic imperialism and inequality, so on and so forth.
i mean, it still strikes me as silly to pay P175 for coffee. although, aside from the coffee being good, it can be argued that one is not only paying for the coffee, but the cafe itself, the whole cornucopia of sensations neatly packaged into the word "ambiance": the airconditioned refuge from the heat, the comfy sofa and the smartly designed hardwood chairs with the subtle recess to snugly hold one's butt cheeks, the nice view of the street, the fine samples of the female subspecies attracted to places like this (example: the korean chicks on the 2 nearby tables silently reading), the invigorating smell of coffee wafting around and transporting you to a higher level of consciousness like you'd just inhaled a drag of marijuana smoke, bob dylan's jingly-jangly guitar and offbeat harmonica alternating with soft unintrusive jazz both echoing from the overhead speakers, the interesting semi-cubist semi-impressionist coffee themed illustration (not sure if you can call it a painting) on the wall of people reading in a library and a painter (i presume) contemplating his just finished painting interspersed with coffee cups and coffee pots (suggesting coffee's contributions to the advancement of literature and the arts, and by extension, civilization as a whole), and most of all, the strange (but not totally pleasant) way one's image seems to be upgraded by the simple fact of being in a starbucks (in the same way being in a jollibee supports one's assumption of middle class status, being in a starbucks is an indicator of belonging to a social strata that finds it acceptable, ordinary even, to spend P175 on coffee).
[note that i say "in/at a starbucks" and "in/at a jollibee", as these sort of places have a photocopied feel to them, i.e., make a copy and plunk one down here, make another copy and plunk down another one over there, so on and so forth.]the "ambiance" theory doesn't totally fly, though. a counter-example: that mysterious (for me, at least) phenomenon of people, usually younger folk, strolling around the various malls in the city while nursing a P175 cup of coffee. the fact that they're not in the cafe invalidates most of the supporting arguments of the "ambiance" theory, except i guess for the last part.
from my current perch, i have noticed a couple of times already the passengers of passing jeepneys outside curiously looking at this local incarnation of starbucks, and the people inside. us, i mean. and it doesn't look like plain curiosity. they have an i-wish-i-was-there-sipping-that-P175-cup-of-coffee kind of tinge on their faces, but not so much a desire for the place (or the coffee), but what the place (or coffee) represents. or am i only projecting?
either way, the fact that i get the benefits of the image upgrade just because i got a free coupon feels, well, kind of unfair: like i just swindled a shitload of cash from someone on the street (thanks steph!).
oh boy... all this introspection and the resulting guilt trip are just ruining this rather rare experience of chillin' at a starbucks. truly, there are benefits to being a bovine chomping unreflectively on a bit of grass... or sipping on a venti mocha frappuccino.
