Here's another picture from our summer trip to the States. (Yes, these will run out pretty soon, and we'll be limited to local humor, but I'm not too worried about a shortage.) Somehow, when I saw this one, I felt that it summed up a lot of the reasons that I'm so happy to live outside America, but I couldn't quite put my finger on why. And of course, when I asked others if they found it at all disturbing, no one had a clue as to what I was talking about, so I suppose it's just another example of me living in a parallel universe.
Does it bother me because they're trying to sell anti-healthy junk food under the guise of popularity? Does it bother me because popularity is the convincing commodity? Do I feel betrayed, because I really enjoyed Dunkin' Donuts as a kid, and somehow didn't benefit from the popularity clause?
I obviously am taking this box of donuts a bit too seriously, but I think that maybe it was the nonchalance of the thing that hit me the hardest. Those poor Americans, always obviously striving for the outer appearances, always looking to be the cool ones. And here I sit on my hilltop, probably uncool, and yet happy with my lot, living the real life.
Now all I need is something to dunk in my coffee.
6 hours ago