Real Men Don’t Drink Weak Cappuccinos, Or Do They…?
What a Man, What a Man, What a Mighty Good Man, of Sunshine writes,
Dear Westie,
I drink a weak cappuccino. My wife drinks a long black. Every time we go out for coffee and we order our drinks, the wait staff place the long black in front of me and the cap in front of her. When I say, “No I’m the weak cappuccino,” I’m sure I see a smirk on the face of the waiter/ress which I can only read as a challenge to my masculinity.
I can see how, in the past, people might associate a weak coffee with the weaker sex (Ouch! We have to print these letters as written. Ed.) but in these enlightened times, surely the strength of one’s coffee should not be seen as a marker of virility, or not.
Either way, I’m finding this constant challenge to my manhood humiliating. Should I say something, should I order a stronger coffee, or should I just shut up?
Dear WAMWAMWAMGMOS, I am tempted to say that a real man would not worry about such perceived slights – the opinion of others does not matter to a man comfortable in his own skin – but I don’t think you have the fortitude to handle that kind of feedback.
Having said that, so what if your coffee of choice has more froth than your average wedding dress and less strength than a spoonful of fairy dust. How you take your coffee is your decision and yours alone.
As is your reaction to these affronts to your manhood. You can choose to be cowed by waitstaff mired in the hairy-chested masculine mores of the 1970s, or you can embrace your right, as a man, to drink whatever you like. If you really can’t hack the sideways glance, your best bet is to order a beer chaser with your coffee, or to slam that weak cappuccino back in one gulp and ask for a decaf, fat-free glass of organic French melt water to wash it down. And make it quick! Oh, and a marshmallow too – if you’ve been a good boy and if it’s not too much trouble.
From last edition
In last’s month’s Dear Westie, we copped a vent from a disgruntled reader from Albion who has had enough of C***s changing the shelves around, lifting and lowering prices willy nilly, automatic check outs, and those funny gates that lock you in until you’ve been adjudged honest enough in your scanning to be allowed out into the world. Well, didn’t that bring on a cascade of super-charged supermarket griping. ‘Down, Down, Prices are Down’ said simply, “Er…no they’re not.” ‘Lower Prices are just the Beginning,’ agreed, while ‘The Fresh Food People’ couldn’t understand why C***s home delivery bags are only half the size of the regular bags. We could go on – the number of replies we received to this one far outnumber the reading capacity of the Dear Westie team – but we’ll stop here as we’ve heard that Tim Tams at our local C***s are on special: two packs for $6, instead of $3 each. How do they make their money?
