Asked For Coffee, Got A Roast

I used to be a regular at a coffee shop, but I noticed that the service has gone downhill. Usually, there are long lines, and while I get my order, it does take a bit for a coffee and two sandwiches. One day, I’m waiting behind a car for what seems like forever, when it finally moves forward.

When I pull up to the window, I internally groan. The person at the window is my least favorite worker. She’s super spacey. Usually, I have to ask her for extra ketchup or extra straws when she should know by now.

Worker: “I’m sorry for the delay. Your total is $14.39.”

Me: *As I’m paying.* “That took too long. Next time, you should have just pulled him up so you wouldn’t have to keep us all waiting.”

At that moment, I saw something snap behind her eyes. Usually, she acts like a ditz. Looking around, she leans in, eyes narrowed.

Worker: “Okay, sir. I don’t know what your problem is, but every time you come here, you always have an attitude with me. Now, I don’t know if it’s because you’re sexist, racist—” *She’s White, I’m Filipino.* “—or if you just are a bitter person, but here’s the deal. There are fifteen other sister locations in this neighbourhood. No one is forcing you to come here.” *Hands me my order.* “Happy Canada Day.” *Slams the window shut.*

I filed a complaint with the owners, but nothing seemed to happen, as when I came through the drive-thru again, I recognized her valley girl voice on the headset. Since then, I’ve chosen another location to get my coffee from.