Gag Me With A Conscience

I haven't thrown up in over 21 years. I don't know why. I've been sick plenty of times (The Love I'm Searching For- The Rentals) and even if I'd thought it might help, I haven't thrown up. There may be something wrong with my pyloric sphincter- I'm no doctor- but I just may be some sort of super human. In any case, this morning I came very close to vomitting.
Since I don't throw up frequently, I don't sympathize easily with people who say they get car or sea sick or claim to have been made nauseous by some intense emotional experience. I tend to think motion sickness is in people's head; if you think you're going to get sick, you're probably right. But as far as intense emotions go, today I felt as close to vomiting as I ever have and I feel a bit guilty about it.
I happened to be in a Starbucks (Come Dancing- The Kinks) this morning. It was as crowded as you might expect a Starbucks to be; I was in line behind four or five other customers and the line quickly grew behind me as well. I am ambivalent towards Starbucks. I work at one. They treat there employees fairly well, they offer benefits to even part time employees, they seek management and corporate administration from within the company. They pay above minimum wage. They're not a bad model for a global corporation either. They go out of there way to engage in fair trade practices, encourage sustainable farming, and sponsor development in the countries from which they get their coffees. They encourage and make it possible for their employees to be involved in their communities and they make a lot of in kind and monetary donations to various charities. So, you know, they're not that bad. In fact, they show that it is possible to treat people well and be profitable. But on the other hand, they are homogenizing. Smaller entities cannot compete with Starbucks. (Daria- Cake) Businesses always fail, there may not be anything wrong with that per se, but sometimes the specific character of a place is lost when the smaller distinct independent businesses shut their doors. We become a people of identical strip malls with the same stores mile after mile, town after town. There are no distinctions. And then there is the clientele, a clientele that includes me. A clientele that today made me want to vomit.
I found myself in the middle of a conversation between strangers. It began with a question: "Is that Bebe?" Two groups of women, one ahead of me and one behind, discovered they had similar tastes in clothes and a similar desire to let those around them know much much they cost and how much more they were willing to spend to be "sooo cute." At first I thought they were funny. I thought I might remember some of their "choice" expressions and post them. If I did you would probably think they were teenagers. They weren't. (I Wished On The Moon- Billie Holiday) These were moms and the more they went on and on, the less I wanted to remember or even witness what they said. They were caricatures: vacuous, shallow, hulls wearing sunglasses that cost more than the per capita income in Gaza, talking about their next shopping spree, talking about their hair, their skin, their money. They were draped in pretenses of wealth and vanity and there was nothing more for them to talk about than how wonderful it is to be wealthy and vain. There we were. I felt complicit. I was angry. I felt sick. I looked around and felt surrounded by a disease. I actually gagged. I left- I need a new job.