a letter i wrote to starbucks…..

To whom it may concern;
I am a devoted patron of your establishment and my poison of choice is a venti quad white chocolate mocha… Or, basically, most of a ten dollar bill. I don’t give a fuck if you make little Ethiopian babies pick the coffee beans one by one and swallow them til they get full and then you cut them open and scoop the beans out of their innards.. Whatever it takes to get me my fuckin’ coffee. I have absolutely no problem with your product in any shape or form. I bow down to the fishy fins of Melusina herself.


My store of choice is on Broadway in Little Rock, Arkansas. I am writing to inform you of a horrible problem there. For lack of a better definition, lets say the problem is called Poopy Pants. Poopy Pants is a man who is somewhere between 50 and crypt keeper who seems to live in the parking lot of your establishment. I sit on the porch, there he is… Screaming at the shrubbery. I get outta my car, there he is.. picking his ass next to the doorway. I understand why he picks his ass, actually, since he obviously hasn’t bathed since the Nixon administration. I call him Poopy Pants because there is something extremely suspicious smeared all over the seat and half way up the back of his, ahem, clothes. I hate to call them clothes because they are so nasty I am quite certain they have taken on a life form all their own. Every now and then he ventures over to Wendy’s as well.. Rest assured I will advise them of this issue as well. But, well, Wendy’s is sort of a Walmart of fast food anyway.. You expect to see strange people there. When I pay ten bucks for a fucking cup of coffee, however, I don’t think I should have to deal with a fecal scented shit encrusted creature stumbling around with his ass in my face.

Thank you… Amy Irene White


One Response to “a letter i wrote to starbucks…..”

  1. I try to read everything you post. You have a way with words I enjoy very much. Thank You!

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