Starbucks Caters to Milquetoast America
There are more Starbucks coffee shops in America than there were voters in the last presidential election (probably). Starbucks is America. Or, more accurately, Starbucks shapes America into its own image: a nation of the types of people who love Starbucks.
Poor people? That doesn't work for Starbucks. As the ranks of America's laptop hobo class grew to outrageous proportions, Starbucks acted to clear them out. But fey, non-aggressive types? The types of people who find real coffee a little too hardcore for their tastes? The American Man unashamed to participate in our nation's wholesale abdication of masculinity in all its forms? Sure, sure, right this way. Starbucks has something special for you.
It started with a collective weakening of character brought on by prolonged and shameless consumption of Pumpkin Spice Lattes—right out in public, where all the girls could see. Now that we're good and googly-eyed on that heady brew of artificially flavored Fall Flavor, here comes the real kicker: a weaker coffee for everyone.
Yes, you'll take your cup of watery weak "Starbucks Blonde" and you'll like it. You'll compliment its distinctly mild flavor, as you brush a bit of stray lint off your Christmas-themed sweater. You'll buy a pound of its unimaginably fey "Willow Blend" beans as a gift for your Secret Santa. And pretty soon you won't even remember what real coffee tastes like.
It won't be too long before America's precious tummy can't handle anything harsher than juice from its sippy cup. Starbucks is ready for that, too.