HE SAID: The Overuse of WiFi/Internet Cafe’s

There are many, many viable reasons for spending lots of time in wifi cafe. Maybe you are a freelancer who works out of your house and sometimes you just need to find some new space to be more productive. Perhaps it’s a last resort because your own internet is down and the public library is too far away. There is always the chance that you aren’t a big drinker or bar person and feel most comfortable trying to pick up a member of the opposite sex while listening to the hip Indie music the barista is playing that day.
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While these options are all possible, they are all few and far between as well. Most of you assholes that spend an excessive amount of time at the local Starbucks (or localized version of Starbucks) are there for one reason and one reason only- to look cool.

You know exactly who I’m referring to. The guy with his Macbook (no, not even a Macbook Pro, because people with Pro’s are probably doing something productive), wearing a J. Crew cardigan and listening to The Shins. And you know what he is working on? His fucking screenplay. The same screenplay he has been working on forever. This person does not intend on actually finishing this piece of work (use that term loosely), but it is merely a conduit for conversation with random strangers who he wants to appear cool in front of.

It would be almost acceptable if this conversation in turn were a conduit to hooking up with whatever poor bastard this person ends up baiting, but seems to me in most cases it’s not. This person just wants everyone else in the world, or at least the wifi cafe, to know just how cool he/she is.

When I was in Indian Wells a few months back for work, I would sit at the hotel Starbucks every morning for about 90 minutes. I’d enjoy my non-fat double tall latte, catch up on emails, (sometimes listen to The Shins), and try to sell some extra tennis tickets. See, there was a point to my loitering. The more tickets I sold, the better quality of alcohol I could afford that night at the hotel bar (where I would try and sell more tickets).

Well one morning this approximately 30 year old male sat near me and asked me what I was working on. I told him, “just catching up on emails, I’m in town for the tennis so just killing time before the matches start.” (Notice the veiled reference to tennis, in case he were interested in some tickets). Now this guy wasn’t wearing a cardigan because it was 83 degrees, but I’m almost positive he put one on later that night since it cools down dramatically in the desert. What clued me in was when he said, “That’s cool, I’m usually in here working on some of my writing, but my creativity really feeds off different people’s vibes, and it’s just not crowded enough.” I almost spat my latte out, but given that it cost about six bucks I held it in, swallowed, and called him a douchebag.

Ok so I only thought about calling him a douchebag, but you all know I would have been justified.

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