Trash Worship

Twenty actioneers dress up like upwardly mobile careerists. Each of you has a briefcase, a gym bag, or a big purse. You enter the Starbucks until the place is full. At least one person is seated at every table, and others are standing by the various counters -- every flat surface has a nearby interventionist.

On the AM's signal you begin to lift out of your briefcases the empty Starbucks cups which you previously culled from the trash. Do this without expression, studying each item with interest, placing the cup carefully on the table. Soon the tables are crowded with Starbucks cups; there is no more room for anything else. You are sitting in this forest of upright trash, every item sporting the Starbucks logo. Then something very dramatic and Odd happens. Gypsy dancers stage a grand entrance through the front-door of the Starbucks, accompanied by wild Bulgarian violinists. (Or your variation of same: this could be a fiery flamenco diva, or an elegant Degas-like ballerina, or a step-dancer in clogs.)

The dancers have their skirts in their fists, flashing red petticoats. They throw back their heads keening as they whip their skirts around. Instead of clapping, you methodical yuppies at the tables pick up one cup in each hand and wave them in the air in circles. (You come from a mysterious culture in which applause takes the form of this ritual Starbucks cup gesture.) The performers dance frenetically, encouraging more airy cup circles. Soon the entire Starbucks is full of two-fisted cup circlings and you keep waving the cups until finally the dancers and musicians leave bowing and yipping.

When your play-within-a-play is over, put the cups away, into the briefcases and purses. We must leave the Starbucks with no evidence that we were there. To the observer, the whole thing was a strange dream. Of course, leave behind information sheets about Starbucks abuses.

Trash-a-lujah! Tell us about your worship ceremony! Leave your comment and inspire the congregation...