The Capitalist Cake

Morgan Spurlock was onto something with Supersize Me, as I discover on ordering my morning coffee . . .

‘Latte, please.’

‘Would Sir like any pastries, muffins or cakes with that?’

‘Actually, Sir would. One of those gigantic Pretzels in fact. Then I’d have an object to stuff in your gob so you can’t try and foist more of your overpriced crap on me, when all I want is a fucking coffee, which should be perfectly obvious to you, since that’s what I ordered.’

Except, of course, I don’t say that – but this: ‘Ooh, go on then, give us a cinnamon Danish.’


6 Responses to The Capitalist Cake

  1. stinkypaw says:

    We are so easy to persuade! It’s sad!

  2. weenie says:

    Yeah, but I bet you enjoyed the Danish! 🙂

  3. Are you SURE you don’t want fries with that? LOL

  4. 100 Words says:

    You twisted my arm. Damn you, with your tricks

  5. mad muthas says:

    size matters very much in those establishments, dunnit? it’s like hyperinflation, or paying for things in lire (in the good old days). for a small coffee, whic is quite large anyway, you have to ask for grande – which anywhere else would mean large. but a large coffee (venti? what the eff does that mean?) is big enough to swim laps in …. oh it doesn’t even begin to make sense!

  6. 100 Words says:

    As the good Pythons once note, the Romans have got a lot to answer for. Venti, vidi, vici, as they say.

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