Starbucks is not an image, it's a brand.  I don't buy your coffee talk. Don't feed me your low-brow, middle-class, high-minded *******. I know you better than you know yourself. You sit there for all the world to see, displaying your property, as if that makes you you. You in your tiny bubble, blanketed by an aura of serenity. I just want burst your peace into millions of pieces. I want to shake the foundations your chair and table stand on and watch you clutch for your cafe latte. "Oh, my dress." But the stain matches your clothing. Fitting, isn't it?