Monday, September 3, 2018

Dear Starbucks: The former Quiet Room, now known as the Chamber of Where Happiness Went to DIE.

I meet with a critique group every Saturday and a writers group every Sunday at a Starbucks nearby. There is a large and comfy quiet room. Recently, Starbucks remodeled the quiet room...we are not happy

Your Honorable patrons would like to enter exhibit A @Starbucks
A: 3.5 foot Sacrificial Altar.
B: Chair of death with the backrest of LIES
C: Frisbee on legs? For what? Too small to put a lap top on, too short to use as a decent drink rest. My theory is it's a landing pad for crows who arrive to carry away the souls of the dead.
D: Even George Jetson would be disappointed.
E: A bench so low to the ground that it can only be the presentation slab for the most recent victim of the chairs of death. I mean, the landing pads are right there for convince, what else could it be? It's like 14 inches off the ground.
F: FOR FAIL--Handicap marker at 3.5 foot high table!
G: A plug, for what? There are plugs on the tables. And since you eradicated all the tables and chairs that used to line that wall why the hell are there plugs? Is this a joke. Are you laughing at us by forcing us to relive daily what we had and you STOLE!
H: Plugs and USB conveniently placed under the table at every chair of death that no one could possibly find comfortable for more than 30 min and even then they'd have to be shooting novocaine into their thighs.
I: Puddle of dying light because there is no winning against the darkness befallen this room. Even the sunlight, during the brightest part of the day, fails to lift the repressive atmosphere of gloom and doom.
J: Tiny lights so not to discourage the demons of despair from crawling out of the shadows to suck out your soul.

Your Honorable patrons would like to enter exhibit B @Starbucks
A: The giant Elephant butt plug, weebles wobbles, wooden chicken egg.
B: Cartoon chair that the seat is actually lower than that elephant butt plug.
C: Bench/table that's the same height as the item B.
D: An ottoman. A fucking ottoman. I. Have. No. Words.
E: Another landing pad for the crows
F: Look carefully. This patron as to PUSH OUT THE CHAIR ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DAMN TABLE TO ACTUALLY GET CLOSE ENOUGH TO USE IT. And those chairs are also uncomfortably high that you have to sit on the edge.
G: Another desperate patron trying their best to make good of the ottomans as chairs, the crow landing pads, and the table/bench dead body holder? This place used to be packed. And I mean PACKED...and now? no one wants to stay here. People came in took one look, burst into tears, and fled for their lives.
Fail Starbucks

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