Why I'm Not Going to Grad School

The Bookend Café in Hale Library is normally a happy place. This week, however, there's been a big, sad sign on the door that says "Espresso Machine Broken! No espresso drinks, sorry."

As I stood in an understandably shorter line with my Anthro friends for some pre-Theory soup, a normal K-State student walked up to the register (Uggs. North Face. Bump-It: 5 points!) She asked,

"So... does... a white chocolate mocha have espresso in it?"

The barista very politely answered her question while I rolled... my... eyes... so far into the back of my head that it actually hurt a bit.

Is there espresso in a mocha?

Are you alive?

I was on the verge of mocking such ignorance until I remembered a much more patient day of realization that the difference between espresso and coffee isn't actually common knowledge. That's why there's a name for people who know all those things. I just happen to be a snob. (Thank you, Bri.) I read a lot of things about the things I like. (Thanks, Dad.)

For a few moments, in my mind, Ms. Mocha was the most ignorant human being on Earth. In reality, she's just another consumer who buys what she likes and is not required to think about the anatomy of her sugary concoction. That is ok.

The more I read, the more I know, the more I rattle off on tangents about things that are irrelevant to most people, the more I think most people are really... really... stupid.

I'm already an impatient person. If I continue to rise up in the Ivory Tower, it will alienate me from people I could otherwise really love and really accept and kindly help understand that yes, Virginia, there is espresso in your mocha.

-Katie