Starbucks is Not Your Living Room

by Emon Hassan on May 21, 2007

Oh you didn’t know that, did you? Just because you paid $4 bucks for that extremely tiny cup doesn’t mean you come from a well-read, fed, groomed, informed family of 3 and have a finger on the pulse of proper English usage.

Just because you can say Double Mocha Latte Chai Half-Decaf on a Small Cup with Extra Twice over with sprinkles of Cinnamon 3 times fast doesn’t mean you are to be perceived as having high-brow tastes.

Just because your 3 year old looks cute when he says “I think people priorities need a major evaluation” doesn’t mean others will love to hear it over and over.

Just because you know how to push a stroller does it make you a strong mother. When we see your little sunshine being a prick, we know it’s because you and his/her daddy can’t agree who is a better parent. None of you are. If you were, the fucker wouldn’t be making all that noise in a public place. But then again, the little cock wouldn’t know better because the parents are the same way, at home and at public places. Read the headline bitches, Starbucks is not your living room. No one cares if your baby has diaper rash. No one cares if little Timmy likes The Daily Show. How the fuck do you know he likes The Daily Show? He still needs to shove a toy in his mouth to make sure it’s a toy. And what about you? Yes you with your over-sized kid in the stroller with a pacifier in his mouth – isn’t he a little too old for that cutesy shit?

Just because you are hunched over a laptop with your Green Chai (or whatever) looking busy doesn’t mean the whole block has to know what you’re writing and that your deadline is coming soon and that Universal Studios has optioned your script. No one gives a fuck! I’m not sitting there with my bagel and butter to hear you moan about not getting things done because you had a stomach flu.

Just because you think you’re a cute couple doesn’t mean others will enjoy your baby talk at the next table.

Respect others around you when you’re sitting at a table where the person sitting next to you can hear you think. Leave the little, out-of-control kids at home.

Stop talking to your dog from inside when you know Sparky is tied to the parking meter outside. Unless Sparky has a blue tooth in his fucking ear, he is not going to hear you. Oh no, I just gave you an idea. Please don’t buy Sparky a blue tooth. It won’t go well with his iPod Nano.

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