Nonsense with Nick: Pumpkin spice magic

Nonsense+with+Nick%3A+Pumpkin+spice+magic

Nick Junck, Guest Columnist

As I stand in line for some Star­bucks coffee at Jitters, I can’t help but think, should I be ashamed of myself?

Look at me, about to walk up to the counter and say to this rather at­tractive barista, “Hello, can I have a large caramel macchiato with extra caramel?”

Both yes and no.

Yes, because I have to put added flavors, creamer, and sugar with my coffee to drink it. I don’t know the strong masculine feeling of drinking straight black coffee. Most often when asked for coffee, I could say, “I’ll take a little coffee with my creamer.”

No, because, well, it’s delicious.

I paid for the Flex Dollars to be able to get this overly priced coffee that will grant me the power to cram for a stupid test and then write a two and a half page paper.

I can’t help but tell myself to be aware this coming fall season and the flourishing scent that seems to draw out the “basic white girl” in some of us.

How does this happen you might wonder?

To be honest, you would have to live under a rock to not know; it’s pumpkin spice.

What makes them crawl out of their dorms with Ugg boots, a scarf, glasses and yoga pants with the words “juicy,” “angel,” or “sexy” labeled across them with their lives’ highest ambition of finding the near­est pumpkin spice latte?

I mean, really!

Starbucks seemed to draw out the basic white girl in all of us, even before they added the pumpkin spice flavor. Even I love a little extra caramel in my caramel macchiato.

Who wouldn’t? It’s delicious, but I digress.

And you, look at yourself read­ing this column wondering if you have ever committed such acts of being a basic white girl. Or rather look up and around you at the ba­sic white girl in her natural habitat as she sits with her legs crossed, staring into her phone like she’s trying to find Waldo. She has to keep brushing her bangs back out of her face and over her ear whilst sipping from a venti Starbucks pumpkin spice latte as she signals to her friends to come over.

You begin to grin as you sit there with your legs crossed being thankful that this type of person is, in fact, NOT you, as you are wearing jeans and a polo. You’re drinking black coffee from a coffee mug with a picture of an American flag on it, pursing your lips together to get the last drops of coffee off of your mustache.

You sir, are not a basic white girl.

But for those of you that are, live on and drink the not-so-nourishing venti pumpkin spice latte that we all know you paid over six dollars for but have to wait five minutes for it to cool down before you even drink it. This is, in fact, the season of the basic white girl.