ISIS = Insipid Sucrose Insurgent Sect

(I am one of many baristas working for a major name coffee brand that’s known throughout the world. Being located in the state where said brand was founded, we expect to see a lot of interesting things when folk come for their much needed java. That said, I don’t think we expected for two police officers to come in one day and ask for my manager to come to the counter. I’m manning the register next to him as the following takes place.)

Officer #1: “Yeah, um… okay, we’re still not sure how to take this, but we got a 911 call from someone at this location stating that the store was a terrorist cell working to murder its patrons.”

Manager: “Really?… wow… that’s… I don’t know what to say about that. I mean, you know us [Officer #1]. You come by pretty regularly on your patrol to get coffee from us.”

Officer #1: “I know; that’s why I’m letting you know, just in case this gets escalated further. We’re pretty sure it’s a prank but… well… I mean, it’s safe to say that this was the last thing we expected dispatch to ask us to check out.”

Officer #2: “Don’t worry, we’ll report that we’ve checked you out and all seems as it should be.”

(The two officers make to leave.)

Random Customer: “Wait! Where are you going?”

(We all turn to see a tiny old lady [who I served a little while ago] staring at us with a mix of fear and anger.)

Officer #1: “Uh, I’m sorry, ma’am, can we help you with something?”

Lady: “I called you in here to stop these d*** terrorists from killing these poor, God-fearing Americans! Aren’t you going to do something?!”

Officer #1: “I’m sorry, ma’am, are you saying you’re the one who placed the call to 911?”

(The lady storms up and grabs the container of artificial sweetener on our condiments bar.)

Lady: “Look at this! Do you know what’s in these? Aspartame! Sucralose! Neotame! Chemical death in every packet! These people are terrorists, aiming to kill everyone who comes in here!”

(There is a pause as the sudden screaming causes the other customers to stop talking and see what’s going on. The lady starts pointing at random people.)

Lady: “You! You! YOU! You all put this in your coffee! You’ve let these heathens poison you! Every single one of these is death in a packet! You’re all going to die before the day is gone! This isn’t a coffee shop! It’s a d*** morgue!”

Officer #1: “Okay… well… now that we better understand what’s going on, perhaps you’d like to accompany us to our squad car, ma’am? We can put you in touch with the people who can help you further.”

Lady: “Yes! Get me the FBI! Get me the NSA! Every single one of these d*** coffee bars has these! Poisoning and killing Americans everywhere! They’re turning our country into a giant graveyard!”

Officer #1: “Yes, well, again, can you please accompany us outside?”

(The lady clings to our container of sweeteners.)

Lady: “I need this! Evidence of terrorism! Murder!”

(The officers look to us.)

Manager: “Uh… sure. Go ahead.”

Lady: “Yeah, I know who you are! You and your whole terrorist sect are finished! This will not go unanswered! All these packets! How many have you killed already?!”

(The officers finally get the lady out of the shop [with our sweeteners] and into the squad car. Officer #1 comes back in.)

Officer #1: “Okay, I am so sorry about that. We had no idea that was a serious call. We’ll make sure she doesn’t come back here again.”

Manager: “That’s fine just… wow…”

Me: “Yeah… well… it gets better.”

Officer #1: “What do you mean?”

Me: “I served her. She put four of those packets of death in her coffee!”