Yesterday after school I bought my daughter a zombie frappuccino from Starbucks and tweeted a picture. Instantly a newish follower unfollowed me and* told* me about it, to make sure I didn’t miss his consumer protest.
I feel this is a case of unrealistic expectations on his part. I’m a cishet white woman living near Seattle. I gotta be me.
My husband and I have been watching a lot of documentaries about the early punk scene, so I have the Sex Pistols on the brain. It occurs to me that if Johnny Rotten wouldn’t mind my zombie frapp, then anyone who does is trying, very hard to be a prick.
So what would he think of my zombie frappuccino? Malcolm McLaren said he’s “a good boy desperately trying to be a bad boy,” which I tend to believe. I also know that he’s addicted to iPad apps and loves Candy Crush, so he isn’t anti-corporation or anything.
So what do you think: if I were shut in a room with Johnny Rotten and my zombie frappuccino, do you think he’d set me on fire? Please discuss.
While I don’t think he would set you on fire, I also believe he’d be more likely to set you on fire than I, or about 99 per cent of people, would. So I picked the “it’s complicated” option.
John Lydon (aka Rotten) is 61 now. His days of setting people on fire for drinking frappuccinos are long gone. Of course, he has his limits. Take a sip of a Venti Iced Skinny Hazelnut Macchiato in front of him and he will start a conflagration that would put Burning Man to shame.
Bikers in minnivans I can live with. Deadheads with a Lexus is another thing I can accept. Punks at Starbucks is where I draw the line. Johnny is maybe a coin flip but Sid would be looking for the nearest lighter fluid.