Coffee. Latte’s. Little muffins that have flax seeds and blueberries. What do these small delights have in common? Each one of them has shaped my understand of the world, and the immediate need for government funding in space travel.
This past weekend, I was out with my friends and we decided to go to Starbucks (by friends, I of course mean by myself, dressed in a winter jacket and cargo shorts). Not to exaggerate, It was an experience that has shaped my life and the lives’ of my descendants for generations to come that may or may not be residents of an entirely different planet (it’s Mars). Why you ask? Like the seal said to the other seal, let’s dive right in (I assume that’s a standard thing seals say).
I walk in, and the first thing to hit my eyes are those chalkboard menus, covered in an assortment of drinks and delicatessens. It’s a big change from my usual coffee place (my kitchen), but I read through each item to make sure I make an informed decision. Between the apple chai latte, snake venom and small iced coffee, I’m not sure what I’m feeling today. The board is so large, the number of items enough to feed an entire planet (oooh what?? foreshadowing???). The array of different smells and tastes bring to mind a new life, a life somewhere off in the distant, maybe on Venus, Jupiter, or maybe, just maybe… Mars?
I stand in line, waiting for a drink. The woman in front of me coughs. The man behind me coughs. Other people in the shop cough. Not that many people seem to get their flu shot. Yeah, actually that’s something that’s been bugging me for a while. The amount of people who have said they don’t believe in a flu shot is ridiculous. Get your fucking flu shot, it works, jesus fuck. Anyways, back to the line. I imagine this is the sort of feeding system you’d use for interplanetary population control, the sort of thing you could use on… wait for it…. It’s coming… Mars bitch! Whoop!
The cashier approaches and asks me what I want. I’m flustered, looking for something to grab and defend myself, but nothing is close enough or sharp enough. My primal instincts kick in faster than a small town wildfire but there’s no way to express my fears. There’s another learning moment for me: there’s nothing scary on mars, I think (this is half veggie pizza, half dehydration, give me a fucking break).
I order a coffee and wait at the little waiting place. What’s it called? Is it just “the counter” at most places or is there a standard name? Seriously though, if you know, please tell me. Legit, text me- my number is 647-989-3445. Don’t spam or anything, just tell me what that counter place is called, or let me know if I’m just overthinking this. Also hit me up if you like watching movies, going for walks or breathing air. Please, I need people. Oh god please.
Ok, back to this thing about mars. So I’m drinking my coffee, mind my own business, when wham! Elon Musk walks in and starts giving this presentation on SpaceX and its plans to populate Mars. So I’m sitting there, listening to his little schtick, thinking, “Whoa, good point Mr. Elon, you make a lot of sense and you invented Tesla! You must be a pretty good dude!” To which the musk man replied, “Why thank you sir, it’s always nice to know I have my supporters,” to which I thought, “Wait a hot sec, you can read minds?!” to which he replied, “I’m fucking Elon Musk.., of course I read minds.”
So I ran out of that place, shitting my pants in fear with a whole new outlook on the solar system and Starbucks.