Barista Parlor

Yesterday, we went to this coffee shop and I was being an asshole making fun of how they were probably going to bring us out fancy mustaches before we’d be allowed to get our coffee.

But then the coffee we had was so good that I kind of wanted to cheer for the coffee shop for sticking it to those jerks who were making fun of them, even though I was that jerk.

I have a couple of private new years resolutions, but one thing I want to do that I’ll say publicly is to just genuinely like things without feeling like I have to qualify it or strike some ironic pose or whatever. I just want to be able to be like “Yeah, this was lovely and I’m going to enjoy how lovely it was.”

In other words, I want to learn to feel about more things the same open happiness I feel when I listen to “Baby, I Love You” by the Ronettes.

The thing I love best about this song–and I love a lot about it, starting with its unabashed happiness and its joyful desire for someone you feel is good for the singer–is how it starts out with these large, loud piano chords. And you think, well, it can’t get any bigger than this and yet, somehow it does.

4 thoughts on “Barista Parlor

  1. I endeavor to imitate my boy cat, Skugga: take absurd joy in little things, and fuck dignity while you’re doing it.

  2. I completely get what you’re saying about Barista Parlor. Same experience, and I basically hate coffee unless it is thoroughly tainted with chocolate and cream. But the mocha there was very much coffee and delicious.

    And the overall point is important too. I read this essay in aesthetic epistemology with my students all about how snobbery skews justification of aesthetic beliefs. There is always at least one student who quickly gets that people can also miss out on the good stuff by trying too hard to avoid association with the snobs and hipsters, since snobs often do like the right stuff even if they like it for the wrong reasons. But there’s no need to miss out on pleasurable or truly aestethicgally valuable things because of social matters.

  3. I had the mocha! And it was amazing.

    I feel noticeably dumber since you moved away and we don’t get to talk about shit like this regularly.

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