In the long history of pipe-assisted drinking—beginning with the gold beer-sipping tubes of the Sumerians —Starbucks's plastic straws(吸管) knew they had some advantages over the rest. Their tight white wrapping carried not only English words but a French style. They stood straight and tall as a stalk (秆) of wheat, with no ugly appearance. And their colour was beautiful. It was darker than the leaves of spring, and lighter than the Washington forests and the logo of the company. But despite all that, they were to disappear by 2020, for not being green enough.
Of course, the straws played an important part in daily life. You could build a cottage with them, or make a hat. At best, they might compose a mat. Their nearest relatives were not delicate grasses, but single-use plastic tubes.
Yet this did not concern them, because they had a higher calling: to refresh human beings. Rather than pumping up the customer with hot highly-effective Americanos, they cooled him with less caffeine and more play. People, especially teenagers and children, needed them to socialize, and amuse themselves. All these folk could have drunk their Frappuccino or their iced teas directly from the plastic cup, of course. Some did, ignoring the eager straws standing ready.
Fun was why green straws had been put into use at all. They began their service not when Starbucks was founded, in 1971, but when it introduced the Frappuccino almost three decades later. Green straws marched in, along with whipped cream. They meant happiness. Yet for each of those straws, the Frappuccino and its followers faced a serious challenging. Through the flat plastic lids of iced coffees, now sharply scored with a cross, they were expected to do the same.
However, the straws were thrown to the bin, either in-store or in the street after being used. They lay where they were thrown in woods, or fields, or among the hills. They would never be dust. They had eternal(永久的) life. That's the reason why they would disappear.
