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Dear Fellow Grouches,

Welcome to National Grouch Day**, aka the worst time of the year. The one that brings out the grouchiest grouch in me. I’d invite my fellow grouches to join me (you know who you are) but to tell the truth… I don’t like you either.

**[Grouch Day: it’s an actual thing. You may now grumble.]

What, you may ask, inspires me on this day of grouchy recognition? Two little words. Pumpkin spice.

My grouch hero: my cat Clary. If you are looking at her, or maybe just breathing, she is so NOT pleased with you.

Okay, so maybe I’m not a good person… It’s not that I don’t try. I recycle. I vote. Floss my teeth. (Well, sometimes.) Donate for the volunteer lifeboat crew. Support animal rescues. I even used to help little old ladies cross the street, until I became one myself and realized how damn annoying that is.  But…

But then autumn rolls around and all of a sudden I’m surrounded by pumpkin spice swilling zombies. Everything they touch is infected with pumpkin spice, which, BTW, CONTAINS ZERO PUMPKIN.

It’s everywhere. Hordes of suburban melanin-deprived female PSL Zombies are apparently roaming the streets, shuffling along in their Uggs and chanting “PUMPKIN SPIIIIICE”. [image credit: Canva AI]

And all of a sudden I go from a good person with very clean teeth to one of those zombie apocalypse heroes who gives up a promising lawn mowing career to grab a baseball bat or garden implement and save the world by bravely treating zombies like their own personal slowly shuffling piñatas.

Autumn PSL* Season        *[Pumpkin Spice Latte]

I’ve been living in the UK for years now, so I had no idea at first that an insidious epidemic had taken over America. My first clue came a few years ago when my plane landed in Atlanta. A group of young women screamed as they entered the terminal. No, really. Screamed. “PUMPKIN! SPICE! LATTES!” When my next flight landed in DC, several passengers menaced a Dunkin’ Donuts employee who was attempting to close down for the night. “Pumpkin spice donuts!” they demanded.

 [image credit: diyways.com]

I tried to escape into my sacred, secure place, the one establishment that makes every ex-pat American groan with homesickness. But the clerk in Trader Joes greeted me brightly with the information that “We carry over 47 pumpkin spice products!”

unnamed-6

I staggered to my friend Janine’s house. I’ve known her for over four decades, and I knew I could count on her to offer me a comfy chair, a cup of coffee, and her latest baking treat. Here she comes now with a plate of her home-baked petit fours. I’ll just have a taste and…

OMG! THEY GOT JANINE!!!

Pumpkin spice petit fours

Okay, it’s actually pretty good. Only now I have an uncontrollable urge to change into yoga pants, pin stuff to Pinterest, and buy all 47 things from Trader Joes…

 Autumn PSL Season last year—

Last year, when I arrived in the States I thought I was prepared for America’s annual Pumpkin Spice orgasm.

I could pass the pumpkin spice product displays without blinking.

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I could ignore the blatant infiltration by Peeps, those ironic little pervs who aren’t content with subverting their assigned holiday.

pumpkin-spice-latte-peeps

 

I could…

[image credit: i.imgur.com] http://i.imgur.com/QzifXu7.jpg

[image credit: i.imgur.com]

NOOOOO! How will my eyes ever be clean again?

pumpkin-spice-bleach

[image credit: itscasualfriday.com]

Sadly, my fellow expats, the infection has spread.

I pass through the stunning Glasgow Central Station several times a month, and usually pop into one particularly favorite spot where I can count on the perfect mix of caffeine, sugar, and carbs.But this year?

KrispyKreme’s Pumpkin Spice Donuts  [image credit: KrispyKreme]

Is NOTHING sacred? 

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