Sundays are always the strangest of days. Number one - I don't think anyone should have to work on Sundays. This doesn't boil down to religion, but mostly the idea that we should be hanging out, taking walks and/or nursing our hangovers. (Hey, I may sound a little up front, but this girls got heart!)
Anyway, Sundays at this *cough* one place I work, are a day for some of the most stuck up people to come out. A lot of the "churchies" as I like to refer to them...You know, the ones that pray and lift their hands and upon leaving God's parking lot, flip each other off for cutting one another off (come on, you SO know the ones...) So yeah, we get a lot of those.
Sundays are super busy now that the weather is nice. (Hence why we can't all be at home talking naps and walks....people need their coffee damnit!) This little farmers market is in the parking lot next door so we get all the perfect little families, buying perfect little lattes, walking their perfect little dog, over to the perfect little market, to buy perfect little fresh cut flowers, to put in their perfect little windows. A bad latte would be the end of the world on their perfect little days. So Sundays take a lot of extra effort.
Today was an especially drowning Sunday. You'd think as adults, people wouldn't be so fucking needy. I mean come on! I have like a billion drinks in line and you want me to top yours off with foam? Bugger off.
Oh and what about the ones that feel the need to sneakily cut in line? Yeah, you. Usually the "churchies" (apparently God ignores these little discrepancies) You think we didn't see you? Well, we did and unfortunately we can't say anything, damnit! But I will do my best to get your ass to the back of the line where it belongs...either by ignoring you or putting your drink behind those who were supposed to be in front of you.
And yes, I realize the half and half is out, I also realize the world might end while you wait...but it will just be a minute regardless of how many times you ask....
Oohh, and I love these:
"Is that my americano?" I hate this more than anything...
"No, this is not your americano" you just fucking ordered and their are at least 15 drinks in line ahead of you.
Two drinks go by..."Is that mine?" Your kidding me...
"Nope, yours is still all the way back there."
And then there's....
"Tall chai tea latte!"
Woman takes it and starts to drink it. "Ummm, this doesn't taste right."
"Right. Well what was it you ordered?" Let me guess, the vanilla latte that I am finishing off right now?
"A tall vanilla latte" Your fucking kidding me. I just called out a tall chai...are you trying to fuck up my flow? Honestly. "Well, that doesn't taste right because it's NOT YOURS."
"Oh well, I thought it was." She seriously looks at me like it's my fault. Somehow I had managed to morph my voice into making a tall vanilla latte sounding like a fucking tall chai.
5 comments:
what do you do in these situations? say well now that is your tall chai latte sweethaeart, free of charge, and your vanilla one is coming right up?
my mom applied to starbucks and i think they wouldnt give her a job because shes old. i was a little mad, but now im glad she dosnt have to put up with a job there because living around her, i know she would not have the patience.
I think you have the patience of a saint frankly... yes, I know the church types you are referring to. I like the way you can get them back in subtle ways ...
Actually, the person who drank the wrong drink is the one who gets their drink on time and a nice little sip of something they've never tried! The person whose drink they tainted is the one who suffers, as I now have to remake theirs and in turn it holds up the rest of the line.
I'm not sure of the age factor. I have worked with plenty of people who are over the "average" age of a starbucks employee. But i wouldn't put it past them...
Your blog is great, I work in a super market in Sweden, dealing with the public is a nightmare...
My favorite is when you call their drink and though they are standing right there, they ask you what it is.
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