Blame Capitalism

In an awkward clash of suburbia and the metropolitan I find myself in Willowbrook. Not a prized location. Not even close on my list. But close enough to the house.

Especially when I have to pay for gas.

But as far as consolations and runner-ups are concerned, the symbol of the caffeinated capitalist dogma known as Starbucks suffices after being cooped inside a townhouse all day. Starbucks is like a progressive threshold after being encased in stucco all day.

My obvious preference is the genuine cafe. Brick walls with cracks and the imperfections of architecture. The creek of wooden floors and the over priced biscotti. The crowds of Bohemian socities flock to these places like devout Muslims to Mecca during Hajj.

Now. Cafe's are not my God, and neither is Allah. But I do love coffee.

The consistent rains of a Monday have left for a pleasantly indifferent nocturnal climate. Ear Buds are fashioned to my ears. Fingers hover anxiously over the keys of my Netbook. A true hipster. Socially rebellious Vagabond.

At least it could be.

But without pretense everything continues as planed. There is always at least one group of Asians congregating, and I love how I never know what they're saying. I can tell the difference between some languages. And even feel the uniqueness of their inflections. But I never know for sure.

Korean? Japanese? Filipino? Mandarin?

A cute woman looks my way. It's unfair for her to be so cute. My ignorance torments me as to her stream of concsiouness. Is she pondering on me in Chinese? This is too difficult.

Flashback - Postindustrial societies, such as the USA, tend to take for granted societal freedoms and have more liberty to explore the expressive nature of humanity through arts careers built upon service as apposed to industry. - end Flashback

Crap. Merdah. Does what this woman think about me really matter? I have as much liberty to write about it, as you do to read it, but that doesn't make the press for modernization in post-communist countries any easier.

But she really does smell good. She walks by leaving a trail of harlotry.

This Starbucks closes at 11:30 p.m. My preferred cafe closes at 2 a.m., but would be a 1 hour round-trip, when I already have to go that side of town for uni in the morning.

As a result, I will not proofread this blog. Blame capitalism.