Dear Starbucks,
This is the last letter I will send you.
I can take a hint. In fact, I take hints all the time. For months now I’ve been checking my mailbox, seeing if you left any hints for me. At first I thought my electricity bill was a hint, but then they turned off my electricity and I realized, oh, that was actually the bill.
Then I realized, you not responding to my letters WAS the hint. Yeah, that’s a really great hint, jerk, real original.
Oh, you probably think anybody can do what I do. You’d probably just take To Kill a Mockingbird and make it into To Kill a Macchiato-bird. Okay, actually, that’s pretty good. What about To Caramel a Macchiato-bird? Now you’re pushing it.
I know what you’re going to say: why would you hire a jerk like me to write a bunch of stupid fake movie titles on your marquee? Well, guess what, EINSTEIN, it didn’t have to be just the marquee! You could have made fake movie posters, or buttons, anything. You could have even put out a book, like The Best of the Starbucks Movie Titles. Maybe some Hollywood guy would have seen it and actually wanted to make one of the movies! Now who’s stupid?
Anyway, I want to keep this professional, but you are a flaming pile of buttholes and your coffee tastes like crap and Seattle sucks and you know what, I’m glad Kurt Cobain killed himself. He probably did it so he wouldn’t have to drink any more of your terrible coffee.
Love (NOT),
P.S. If the cute barista who works there (Katie? With the braces?) doesn’t have a boyfriend, will you please give her my number? I wrote a really good song I think she’d like.
