To brown paper bag or not to brown paper bag... that is the question

Brown paper bags and loud dings is all I heard as we opened up the floodgates to the new restaurant norm. How has it come to this? Two humans and five machines in the front of house. A makeshift drawbridge with a window that only a muppet would approach, let alone fit in. Welcome to the restaurant of the year in 2019.

Now, 2023, this is all that is left. Human chromosomes bouncing off each other to the nodes of invisible communications in the ether...machines controlling the finely orchestrated movement of this opera. The opera of post apocalyptic restaurant life as we know it. This is the story of the new food norm in society.

The back of the house, as sad as it always seems, remains the same. You have workers who don't speak much English, who don't care if they make the new 90 day fiance finale or watch what's trending on Netflix new releases. The World halted its naysint knee down to the Earth and shocked it to the point where the elites who dine in a la fresco have to partake in a virtual reality experience with food. No longer are you ordering the finest vino de bio dynamic fucking cassis. Now, you are solo popping, fast eating, door dashing, instafarting, your way into obscurity. A place where foodie logic is thrown to the curb, where all that matters is that microcosm you were born with, the taste buds in your soul, where nothing really matters if you don't like it to matter, where you become a psychopath foodie. 

Welcome to the age of food control. I have never worked at a restaurant that did not open its doors to the public with the utmost sincere cry for acceptance. A soliloquy for belonging, a longing for being the place one would be at and be seen at. When androids take control of the communication waves we get a form of control that is like effervescent foam coming out of a sour cocktail you shook perfectly to achieve foam volume. You get chaos in the food culture and everything that falls into this category.

The way we communicate is through our stomachs and then our brains follow. Could the social conditioning that Foucault talked about with technology be finally figuring out how to control us? How to subjugate us to our phones while we lose the very essence to which we hold a strong bond to. One that began at the bosom of our mother and evolved to a survival predatory means to an end. Our thriving and evolving need to eat food. Our primal and instinctual habit to consume. We are just brown paper bags now excited to get a delivery that eventually will lead to garbage.

This is a very grim notion of our own death, when we are delivered to the ground we came from in body bags. Perhaps, I will refuse to partake in this madness orchestration of to-go food. I will gladly say very loud and clear, "Please, dont' brown paper bag me to go." Instead, take your time and make something worth satisfying to my soul. Take all the time you need. I don't want to be controled by your system of madness anymore. I'll take my food for here and now.