We are a physically fit community and we the fit meet at Starbucks. 

The fit, some tall and lean, some short and stout, in Nordstrom bought nylon spandex, trot by, adjusting crotches, carrying weights, with light amounts of lip-gloss on chunky lips (courtesy of donor tissue from cadavers and injected into their mucosa – a little something called BOTOX). Anal or carefree, meat free, nut free, gluten free - all types are welcome at Starbucks.

Be they mother writers, stay at home mothers, or even mother udders, everyone needs this loud place to sit with actors and moviegoers alike.  Some of the ladies seem to feel that they can do their community outreach simply by sitting at a safe distance from the few homeless and helmless who crouch in the corner, there to use the bathroom and feel the heat and just maybe get a handout out from these generous, generous, ladies.

Some bike, some run, some powerwalk to the Ethernet hub, the bicycle hub – the caffeine hub – a center of activity where oneness percolates - a virtual melting (coffee) pot.  Enhanced breasts arrive a brief moment before the attached sculpted bodies follow to chitchat gleefully with other local nipples. With this hot spot, the community can all pretend to feel as one. OM.

Off with the Patagonia Parka and in with the silky smooth venti, sugar-free, skim, soy, triple, no foam, extra hot, extra syrup, semi dry caramel mac-ch-ia-to.  After the pure joy that running down the street weathering the elements (albeit in parkas) afforded them, undeterred by pesky recessions and government shut downs, wars, hangings and suicide bombers, these enhanced humans enjoy the ephemeral quality of long named drinks and then magically sod off into the urban metabolism.

We are not only a FIT community at Starbucks - but a community FIT for Starbucks.