Why do American food and beverage franchises force their employees to face customers whilst clad in ludicrous theme apparel and branded baseball hats? Step into a Starbucks and you are immediately set upon by a team of highly strung short stops demanding to help you. Walk across the average Food Court, on the other hand, and enter psychedelic little league game gone badly wrong.
Of course, such demeaning dress codes are merely another aspect of the infantilism that has been introduced into almost every arena of American society. The fast food establishments that enforce them transport their clientele into fantasy worlds of convenience, fairy palaces of fat of sugar, where dreaming diners forget that the enormous mounds of edible plastic they are consuming is of extremely inferior quality. This is the land where Peter Pan is grounded by diarrhea and Tinkerbelle has terrible acne. The land where the word "value" means twenty percent more.
In Rome, the serious men who serve espresso wear crisp white shirts, black ties and black trousers, and sweeping linen aprons fastened around their waists. You feel like an adult when ordering from them. And even your poorly pronounced Italian will make more sense than the weird make-believe, mumbling language of Starbucks.