Starbucks: L'endroit de la pretentieux

Hindi ako regular sa Starbucks. Hindi ko rin yun second home. At lalong hindi kape at latte ang tubig ko. Mabibilang ko lang sa dalawang kamay ang mga pagkakataong tumambay ako dun. Kadalasan, mga barkada ang kasama ko, pero minsan nililibre din ako nila Kuya Ram at Ate Apol. (Tsk, when are they gonna get hitched?) Sa mga pagkakataong tumatambay ako dun eh talaga namang nakakaloka ang aking mga experience

Nangyari ito one week prior. Nilibre ako nila Ate Apol habang nasa grocery sila Nanay at Rjay. Eh di siyempre tatambay kami dun sa loob habang tinutungga-tungga ang pagkamahal-mahal na inumin (kapitalista!joke.) (strawberries and cream frappe ang pinili ko). So, with nothing else to do, I indulged in one of my favorite wala-akong-magawa-activities. People-watching.

Siyempre, pasimple akesh sa pagpipeople-watching (anu daw!?), baka kasi isipin ng mga tao ay isa akong psychotic freak/stalker/moron. Sa table na katabi namin ay may isang grupo ng mga kababaihan na parang mga kolehiyala, pero hindi sila naka-uniform. Sigurado akong hindi sila taga-UP, kasi iba ang vibes nila. One thing I'm sure of is that they're high-class peeps. Kung paano ko na-draw ang conclusion na iyon ay hindi ko rin alam. Anyways, lakas ng tawanan ng mga girlash. Parang sila lang ang tao sa loob ng coffee shop. At dinig na dinig pa ang mga tsismisan nila. Dyosko! Kaloka.

Pero ayos lang yon. At least, they're not pretentious. Get real, ika nga. Mas ayos na iyon kesa dito sa next person na sumagi sa aking paningin.

Honestly, maganda naman talaga ang babaeng ito. She's got the complete, physical package that most guys would fall for (id est, hair, face, body, clothes). She was not worth observing, actually, but she did this little thing that made my eyebrows rise beyond my hair line.

To girls out there, I'm sure you know this. Most girls have done this to other people who have, in their opinion, questionable fashion sense/I.Q./etc. HECK. All girls have done this sometime in their lives. Admit it. Anyways, this woman, upon entering Starbucks, made a beeline for the counter. Since our table was located directly beside the counter, I was in her line of vision. Upon seeing me, she gave me a once-over: starting from my hair down to my flats. She had this nasty, little smirk on her face, and as she passed me, she flipped her long, shampoo-commercial-worthy hair and held her chin high.

Papalampasin ko na sana 'to kung hindi lang niya inulit. Susmariajosepidal! Inulit pa niya! She went back to the counter to get her drink, and repeated the bitchy process all over again. I wanted to do something, like, stretch my leg out and trip her, or splash her java-chip all over her preppy clothes, but I don't want to sink to her level. (Haha. How terribly cliche.)

Marami pang phonies dun. Some are, literally, fakes. Mga fake na babae, id est, gay men. Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against homosexuals. In fact, I love them and their spontaneity! They are actually being real when they flaunt their gayness. It's when they become shiny, hard and pretentious plastics that they annoy me.

It was probably more than a couple of years ago that the Starbucks fad literally hit the country. If you want to get technical, it was approximately a decade ago when the country's first Starbucks Coffee retail location opened in Makati, Manila's leading financial district, on December 4, 1997. But I'm talking about how it became a fad, especially among the youth. (I define youth as individuals within the age range of 15-24, in accordance with the United Nations General Assembly)

Aminin na natin. The allure of Starbucks lies predominantly on its capacity to boost one's social status. Once you're seen hanging out in Starbucks, you're automatically regarded as rich and part of the high-society. Psh. Katarantaduhan. Your friends would not let themselves be left out of the loop, and would start hanging out at S-bucks as well. This process works like a water ripple, and would just get bigger and bigger until all "contaminate-able" parties are affected.

But let me give Starbucks some credit. I'm no expert on coffee, but they make their drinks with a distinct taste and smoothness that probably attracted the sensible individuals. Not to mention the fact that the ambience is conducive to getting our creative juices flowing. Er...well...this was before sosyaleras, sosyaleros and the conio race invaded the formerly laid-back atmosphere of Starbucks and polluted the air with their foolish chatter that's primarily composed of phrases that they ripped off from Kris Aquino.

Again, I have nothing against high-society peeps. In fact, one of my circles of friends is composed mainly of rich kids from UP (how anomalous is that? Rich kids from UP?!). What annoys me is the sort of people who are not really conio but they still force themselves to act in that way, and they buy fake Louis Vuittons and Havaianas (id est, Havana) just to fit in and they blow their allowance (their parents' hard-earned money) just to buy ridiculously-expensive coffee. And to top it all off, they try so goddamn hard to speak a la conio english, never mind the fact that they sound like complete morons.

Eto sample:

"Like, how kainis is that? I mean, like, they're not even sosyal like us! Like, they're poor, di ba?"

"I know, right?"

Haha. Hilarious. And pathetic, at the same time.

It's Not Wholly Their Fault

It started with the music. What followed were the eyeliners and square-rimmed glasses. Oh, and don't forget the side fringe that obscured half their faces. It started with a handful of teenagers parading around in their black clothes and black auras. A year or so later, it managed to take nearly half the youth population by storm.

Emotional. Or "emo", if you would like to abide by what pop culture dictates. These are very different things, in my opinion. Being emotional is expected of every human, while being emo is not. Many sites define "emo" as a genre of music that stemmed from punk sometime in the late 90's, but in this generation, it is certainly more than that. It has evolved into something more significant, something that warrants careful attention and something that attracts discrimination.

I asked a friend to define emo in his own terms. Here is exactly what he said:

"They're those suicidal guys, right? They wear black stuff and eyeliner, and they slash their wrists to attract attention. And the hair, it's either covering half their faces or it's stiff with wax. They need serious help."

It was, admittedly, quite bigoted to say despite the fact that it is quite real in some cases. Alarmingly, "emo" reached a point when it is no longer just a fashion statement. It became more than just an expression of teenage angst and it went beyond the appreciation of emo music. It evolved into something bigger than a fashion statement. Some people took it much, much further, to a point when even they cannot handle the consequences. I'm talking about self-harm. And the extreme: suicide.

This is the point where everything goes down the drain. People who look the least bit like emo receive the worst treatment possible. They are accused of being deranged, attention seekers, homosexuals. They get bullied, jeered at and teased maliciously. Been there, done that. I admit that I was once charmed to the allure of the emo culture. And I like their style of dressing up. But that was it. There was never any self-harm involved. The phase ended there. But that, and being female, didn't spare me, and I was just lucky enough that all I got were cruel words. Some even get roughed up. And this, this blatant and heartless discrimination was what drove some kids, who were not even thinking of self-harm before, to commit suicide.

I don't know what to call it. Is it merely a trend, a fad? Or is it something much more to those who follow it? Is it a culture, a lifestyle to which a person must live by? Is it worth dying for? Is the glorification of this culture worth your life and everything that you've lived for before you even became "emo"?

It's fine to use eyeliner and tight, dark clothes. It's fine to dye your hair black, to write poetry and it's definitely okay to cry. But it's not okay, and definitely not cool, to use the blade.
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Oooookay. One of the reasons I ranted about "emo-ism" is the fact that I have to write a term paper about it. I can't figure out where to start, and then I realized that, maybe, writing a blog entry about it would get the creative juices flowing. But another reason is the fact that the problem exists, even here in the Philippines. Even kids below 12 years of age are becoming hooked to this. But they shouldn't be. I swear to Immanuel Kant that they shouldn't be.

This is sooo NOT cool, people. Hurting yourself and taking your life should never be an option in the first place.

And these are not right, either. Do you know what these are called? It starts with "b" and ends with "y". I think I don't have to spell that out for you. All I'm asking is, please, let's behave and don't judge other people by what they wear or by the music they listen to. It's just as bad as self-harm, because you're hurting others.

Disclaimer: these images are not mine and were just taken from: http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii48/boroP/, i275.photobucket.com/.../anti-emo-1.jpg