You have haunted me like the holiday you belong to. Beginning in September, when it was 80 degrees in most spots you and your spooky spices started showing up on chalkboards everywhere.
What sort of exorcism will I need to get you out of Trader Joe’s? At first I thought you were just all over the flyer…but no. You have overtaken endcaps, you are on the top shelves and the tasting area. You are in baked goods (reasonable) coffees (gross) and beer (I have no words.)
How did one innocuous food ruin so many things?
It’s not just your smell and taste. It’s the sound of you as I try to write about sex and the barista announces pumpkin chai (extra hot, because it is, right?) No. It is not extra hot. There is nothing less sexy than a pumpkin chai.
If pumpkin chai were a person she would have a powdered face and a spinning wheel. And she would be whipping up a scratchy sweater made of some sort of pumpkin pulp.
When did a food become a drink? We don’t have spaghetti squash lattes. That would be gross. Even with spices. Although it might make for better spun sweaters.
See that sign. Made with real pumpkin? What is unreal pumpkin? Have you managed to clone yourself? Are you growing on the backs of mice like ears? Are you so in demand that we need a chemical facsimile to satisfy our pumpkin needs?
I welcome you for three days a year. The day before Halloween. The day of Halloween. And thanksgiving. You show your true face on all hallow’s eve, the ghosts and witches glow and you don’t pretend to be warm and welcoming. Go be your ghoulish self and stay out of my coffee.
And take your damn spices with you.