by Tuesday, and America has officially lost its mind over cinnamon. I published my pumpkin spice piece this morning and immediately got responses ranging from “hilarious truth” to “you’ve gone too far this time.” Apparently suggesting the Surgeon General might declare pumpkin spice an emotional support flavor crossed some invisible line of sacred American autumn traditions.
The piece took two days to write because I kept getting distracted by actual research into the pumpkin spice phenomenon. Did you know Americans spend $511 million annually on pumpkin spice products? Half a billion dollars on cinnamon-adjacent seasonal flavoring. This is the kind of statistic that makes my immigrant brain short-circuit.
I remember my first American autumn. Someone handed me a Pumpkin Spice Latte and said, “Welcome to America.” I thought they were joking. They weren’t. This country has weaponized seasonal beverages. You’re either Team PSL or you’re suspect. There’s no middle ground. It’s theological.
The best part of writing satire is watching people self-identify. The PSL defenders came out swinging: “It’s just a harmless seasonal drink!” Exactly. That’s the point. It’s harmless, yet we’ve built an entire cultural identity around it. We’ve made cinnamon-flavored coffee a personality trait. That’s not normal. That’s American.
My editor asked if I was “punching down” at PSL lovers. I had to explain: I’m not punching down at consumers. I’m punching sideways at a culture that turns everythingeven beveragesinto identity markers. You can enjoy pumpkin spice without building your entire autumn personality around it. But Americans struggle with moderation.
Someone on Twitter called me a “joy-killer.” A JOY-KILLER. Because I wrote 800 words about overpriced seasonal coffee. This is America in miniature: taking satire personally because we’ve commodified personality. Your coffee preference isn’t you. But try telling that to someone whose bio includes their Starbucks order.
I’m drinking regular coffee right nowno pumpkin, no spice, just caffeine and existential questions about whether satirizing consumer culture makes me a hypocrite since I’m literally consuming coffee while writing this. The answer is yes. But self-awareness doesn’t pay the bills; satire does. Barely.
Tomorrow I’m tackling the haunted house labor shortage. Because apparently, America has a shortage of people willing to jump out at strangers for minimum wage. Shocking absolutely no one who understands basic economics.
# 697
MY HOME PAGE: Bohiney Magazine (Aisha Muharrar)
