Sunday, July 24, 2016
Because I grew up in shopping malls I have some idea of how to entertain myself in Department stores even when I have nothing to buy. With free time on my hands in a Target the other day I made my way over to the aisle with espresso machines. I just like to be near them. I find espresso machines comforting.
But like in an old fifties horror movie all the real espresso machines had been replaced in the night by pod machines. Aliens, floating in space, made their way to earth, and then, in the night replaced the real, messy, soulful, personal espresso machines with empty, glassy eyed, alien pod machines. These are machines where one buys pre-packaged espresso in environmentally evil and likely toxic and brain melting pods and uses them instead of ground coffee from a bag. This closed, pod system forces people to buy more pod coffee, which works its way throughout the nation until the alien takeover is complete. Apparently this saves people seven or eight seconds in their morning coffee preparation, or something.
Or let me put it another way, because when I'm really wound up about something wildly meaningless I need to invoke multitudes of analogies. These espresso makers are like if you decided it would be a good idea to open a bank account, and it looks like there are plenty of banks around, but when you go into any of them it turns out they all offer great interest rates and services but operate using their own, proprietary currency.
"My bank is fantastic! Do you take TCF Script? No? Oh, no problem. I'll just go shop at the TCF store."
And this is why soon I will be fleeing with my wife to Rome, where the invasion has been beaten back with large, powerful, Ferrari like espresso machines. For a mere dollar I can hang out near one of those noble, reassuring machines and fully enjoy the last, bittersweet time before the human race is conquered and destroyed forever.