Dear self-appointed spokesman of the café area at the bookstore: stop it. Yes, we can hear you. No, we are not impressed.
We really do not care that you want to talk loudly and apparently persuasive about the goings-on in whichever country you are an expert on and how it all ties in with the upcoming session of Congress AND the Middle Eastern troop escalation.
You’ve really nailed it: worldwide, and even – gasp! – domestic politicians are corrupt and ill-fatedly influential. Man, all this time, and we really had no idea about this until you stepped into Borders Books, Music and Café and told us in your in-the-mirror-practiced baritone ramblings. The way you build tension by reaching for the 20 oz. latte really caps it off, forcing everyone to look over in the wait-a-minute-why-did-he-just-pause look. That subtle look-at-me-my-opinion-is-validated-because-I-drink-coffee-in-Utah-County-and-only-intellectuals-drink-coffee-in-Utah-Valley. It’s thrilling in the way the end of Sixth Sense was thrilling a decade ago.
I know, you just got an ‘A-‘ in your debate/ethics/political science class and the only reason you didn’t get the pristine ‘A’ is that the professor saw water-well-deep potential in you, allowing you to push yourself in future endeavors. And these morsels of knowledge you gained along the way – you just want to divvy them out to everyone; you’ve been so blessed. Please, spokesman sir, divvy up on your own time – not the time of others in the sparse cafes available to the happy valley faithful.
I just want to read my book, man. So please, for the love of protesting-tax-relief-in-the-wicked-face-of-Reaganomics, shut up.
