The State of Maine has done it again.
CNN reports today that yet another sun-starved head case from the Great White North is making a mockery private enterprise. According to the news website, on Monday last, Donald Crabtree of Vassalboro, Maine opened Grand View, a coffee shop boasting topless male and female servers in the town of approximately 4,500 residents, none of whom should be seen naked. By anyone. Not even themselves. Ever.
I can only hope this is some sick publicity stunt concocted by the Kennebunkport outlet branch of Abercrombie & Fitch. My critique of this bombastic excuse for a business is three fold:
1. Why are people so stupid?
Don't get me wrong, toplessness is great. With the right toxicity level and lighting, I can appreciate a good exposed peck/breast as much as the next person. Ain't no shame, baby, do your thing. But the naked torso/hot coffee combo makes me nervous for some reason. Oh, that's right. Common sense. Furthermore, I guess a lobster ate Crabtree's homework on the day his class learned about the infamously frivolous 1994 lawsuit of Liebeck v. McDonald's. The fast food chain was ordered to pay a disgruntled customer close to $3 million in damages after she spilled "excessively hot" McDonald's coffee on her hand. Her hand. How much do you think you get for a set of seared six pack abs or, better yet, two boobs? One burned boob alone has to be worth at least three hands. Thus, according to my calculations, should any of Donald Crabtree Boy Genius' backcountry baristas take a pot of coffee to the knockers, he's looking at $18 million in compensation. Maine hasn't seen that kind of money since Ted Kennedy finally settled the family tab at the yacht club bar.
2. A rocky coastal outcropping does not a beach town make.
Unlike the bronzed inhabitants of the opposite coast, Mainers are of hearty peasant stock. They are the descendants of fur trappers and the survivors of shipwrecks. I don't know about you, but I'm not dying to see some demi-nude, translucent-skinned relation of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow suggestively manipulating an espresso machine. I swear, you give Crabtree an inch and he becomes the Matthew McConaughey of breakfast drinks. Maine needs to keep her shirt on.
3. Finding a chest hair in my coffee would ruin me.
In conclusion, it seems that the crippling isolation of eternal winter has gotten to the citizens of Maine. Again. I only wish they would go back to logging or curling or whatever and leave the partial nudity to other, more evenly pigmented human beings.
AHF
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