There is an underground movement that is gripping America. A scourge that is more serious than tax reform, barbed wires fences and gas prices. There is a shadow puppet master affecting all our lives. A group of maniacal individuals that have almost completely taken over our society. The Cult of the Grande.
Oh sure, you think that you don't know what I am talking about. But I bet you do. You just know them as .... Starbucks.
A tall? A grande? A venti? Oh give me a damn break. What ever happened to small medium and large? Don't tell me that you don't have a damn small. "Sir, we have the tall. the grande and the venti."
So what you are saying is that you saying is you have three sizes. One of them is smaller than the other two. One of them is larger than the other two and one of them is ... kind of in the middle of the two. Kind of a medium you might say.
Don't spit on my doughnut and tell me it's glazed. You give me a damn cup of coffee when I say "small black". Don't look at me like I am using Chinese sign language. Just turn your ass around, get my coffee maybe a danish and let me get on with my life.
Don't ask me if I want whipped cream, sprinkles, caramel, cinnamon, skim milk, goat milk, yak milk, giraffe shavings, gorilla essence, whale oil, crystal waves or pyramid light. Don't ask me if I want my coffee steam brewed with artic iceberg water, deioniozed water, reoxygenated water or ionically stabilized ozone free liquid hydrogen drippings. Just turn yourself around, hand me the cup take my cash and get on with it.
And before you say "Well Prophet, why don't you just not go to Starbucks?" stop and think about how this mentality is paralyzing our world. Whether you are at Starbucks, Joes, Panera Bread, La Madeline or any of 1,000 other places you get the same thing. The cryptic cup size codes and the trial of passworded orders.
Gone are the days you can go in to just any place and say "small coffee, black". No, now you have to have a deep breath and a script for your order. "I'll have a tall mocha latte with 1% organic goat milk in a wafer infused cup with 2% steamed cream, virgin cinnamon oil drippings, caramel drizzles, pink sprinkles. Oh and a dash of lemon zest." But don't worry if you don't have all that memorize. You can rehearse during the 20 minute wait that it takes to get to the front of the freaking line.
It's all right there in front of us. It's part of our everyday life. Not a day passes when some bright marketer convinces yet another place to join the Cult of the Grande and replace their "small" with a "big" or a "bulge". Not a day goes by that some guy is making me wait in line while he take 2 minutes to spout out his coffee order. Or his bagel order. Or his sandwich order. Or some other damn thing that ought to be simple but has somehow been complicated beyond recognition and function by the Cult of the Grande.
Prophet out.