When we first heard all this flap about pasties at espresso stands, we thought: surely coffee and pastries go together like sushi and sake. Like pizza and Coke. Like polish sausage and cold beer! What's all the controversy about? Upon closer reading, the articles were not about flaky apple strudel or almond chocolate-dipped biscotti. The word is pastie--and not the meat-and-potato-filled variety, either. The mix-up was a little embarrassing, to tell you the truth.
Our second wave of response: Seattlest's inner feminist kicked into gear. Objectification! No, wait: sexual liberation! Why shouldn't enterprising young women serve espresso to Kitsap/Whatcom County commuters with nothing but shiny stars (or whatever) covering their ta-tas?
The answer to that, of course, is because they might spill and burn themselves, and that would be tragic.
All in all, we decided we didn't really care that much. It wasn't as if it was a Seattle espresso joint serving up glimpses of lady-parts with people's double tall half-caf almond breves, and what matters is the actual coffee, right? Still, it was funny (and a little bit of a relief) to learn from KOMO that now there are dudes (well, at least one) sporting pasties up there in Kitsap.
Phew.

McGinn is Mayor


In Montana they had Cowgirl Coffee. The dress code included high-heeled cowboy boots, a hat, a corduroy g-string, and a bandanna. And nothing else. I'd like to see this guy try to wear a bandanna as a shirt.
At least he jiggled. I've honestly run out of words to describe this entire "story."
I guess I'd rather hear about ways to fix our failing education and health systems, but nah, pasties on baristas seems more newsworthy.
Thanks general public! Thanks for not trying.
Such drama and sanctimony!
I think it was in ancient times when Nero obsessed over pasties while Rome burned.