If I could dunk on anyone, I would dunk on Intelligentsia coffee.  The dunk would be epic and I would use my godlike strength to pull myself up on the hoop, shattering the glass into millions of treacherous shards for all nearby to dodge.

Here’s why.

Intelligentsia coffee, you’re just too damn cool, aren’t you? Being told you were one of the finest coffee shops in all of LA, I had to try you, I needed to try you.  I wanted to love you. But I found myself waiting for twenty minutes in a line down the block, only to pay four United States dollars American for a small cup of coffee! The entire plantation that grows the beans probably got THREE dollars from your head office.

But the price is only a small fraction of the many problems.  While waiting in this line, I had to listen to the waif-like female in front of me discuss trivial, gossipy industry babble on a Sunday morning. Now, being in “the industry”, I usually have a high tolerance for this type of bullshit. But Sunday mornings are sacred. As far as I’m concerned there are two things you can’t do on a Sunday morning: 1) Loudly talk on your cell phone in a public place, 2) Shoot the crown off an old lady going to church—even if you’re trying to cap Omar.  In fact, I would make sure that this girl would be the one trying to defend me as I went in for my dunk.  As she tried to defend me I would just do a quick cross over and break her ankles.  No, literally, due to a lack of food she suffers from a calcium deficiency which makes her bones very brittle.

Once past her, I would face my next enemy, the uniform mob of hipsters who spent hours dressing to look like they just rolled out of bed, then sit and sip macchiatos as they undoubtedly judge you. They would try to stop my progress to the hoop, not by using rock solid defense, but rather their judgemental eyes.  But Ha! Too late! I have judged you first.  Ahh, the irony.

I’d dribble by these patrons faster than they can wipe the foam from their lip.  Actually, the game would probably resemble something more of a Passion Pit concert than anything else—oh you haven’t heard of them?  Well you will now because I’m dunking on them too!

You know what? Screw the rules  I would even take three steps up to the dunk, because nobody would stop me.  They’re too busy tweeting or some shit.  Or their arms are too weak to stop my badass force. Or they are too scared to say something to my face.

I’d dunk all over the mustached, artistically tattooed barista, because he refuses to pay any attention to me until the person in front of me has paid and received their doted-on drink.  Now, nobody needs to get their panties in a knot over the next thing I’m about to say, but, Starbucks does a few things right.  Coffee may not be one of them, but the whole, pay-first-then-go-wait-over-there really works out for everyone. It’s efficient and it gets people moving. It might even double their business, since people would be more likely to purchase coffee because there’s no absurd line.

Oh, and when I want coffee, I want coffee. Like, sixteen ounces of it, not a sip or two. I have an addiction, alright? Intelligentsia, you of all businesses should understand this, what with slinging such a fine product and all—a product that is apparently worth four dollars for eight ounces. I would buy a cup just to spill it all over the court I’m dunking you on, just to up the ante a bit. Yeah, I play dirty like that.

The only way I thought I could come out on top was to purchase a pound of your coffee to take home, that way I could enjoy it without the insurmountable arrogance. But to my disdain, the coffee must have been roasted poorly, because after about four or five days of keeping it in the freezer, the tannins have become overwhelming.  Making it a sour, un-enjoyable cup of joe. This, Intelligentsia, is what really burns me. Actually, I’d rather cover the basketball court in grounds than liquid; it’d be slipperier that way…like sawdust in the wood shop at high school. Hipsters would be breaking themselves left and right.

So there, Intelligentsia. Take your holier than thou attitude and pretentious name and shove it. I’m gonna slam dunk all over your ass.

Rose Corr works in the movie industry in Los Angeles, California.  She likes her coffee to be big.

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