People keep sending us stories like this and this about Starbucks CEO Howard Schultz fretting about his gargantuan cinnamon dolce cash cow losing its "soul," namely because we used to be a Starbucks barista, number 229695 to be precise, and we didn't post about it, because it had nothing to do with the fairer sex really, until we happened upon a reminder that like everything, it totally did.
Coffee girls come only after record store girls in the romantic and sexual aspirations of the post-college urban male. They've managed to supplant the naughty nurse and sexy librarian, perhaps by daily being present and at least minimally archetypally consitant. Nurses have stopped being young, efficient single women in short white uniforms. Librarians are mostly obsolete, made rare in life by electronic card catalogs, not to mention google and amazon.com.
After the jump, our analysis.
Clearly Howard Schultz is a very repressed man who gets off watching baristas "pull" espresso shots. This is a perfectly understandable fetish acquired to some degree by everyone who used to work there back in the good old days, when Everything But The Girl was the Soundtrack To Our Lives and people were hired based on whether Scott or Gretchen wanted to fuck them. (Scott liked our Catholic school uniform, natch.)
Anyway, in those days, making 19 lattes at a time was the odd profession that required actual motor skills and brain activity, because you had to figure out how to steam skim properly without giant bubbles on one end while steaming whole milk on the other end while emptying the espresso from the grinder into the handle-thingys and screwing them on and then timing the shot to make sure it wasn't over or under extracted. Whatever, it was hypnotic in a way that was kind of hot. When we got good at it we totally got notes over the bar telling us it was hot, but we were too busy screwing fellow trip-hop listening baristas to bother with them, because, duh, they probably couldn't steam skim for shit.
ANYWAY, the "repression" part comes because Howard Schultz doesn't KNOW that this gets him off. Pour Your Heart Into It is laced with all these incredibly gay terms (21 references to "romance", four more to "romantic", puke) and he goes on for like 140 pages about Italy without mentioning sex once. So he allowed the old machines to be replaced by these dumbshit things where you push a button and now everyone who works at Starbucks can be as stupid, lazy and fat as their customers. And "something" is "missing." Hahaha, Howard, "something" isn't "profits," which is all you're paid to care about. Get thyself some barista porn — shit, outfit your colossal mansion with an old school La Vazza and a sex swing, you're rich enough — and remember that WHAT YOU ARE SELLING IS AN ADDICTIVE SUBSTANCE. Smack loses its "romance" after awhile too.