She’d Better Fly To Colombia, Then

(I work at a bakery and coffee shop in my hometown. It is one of about five locations in the city. Our bakery specializes in freshly made cookies and various cakes and bars, along with a pretty good selection of coffee flavours and espresso machine drinks. One afternoon, I’m working at the store with my shift partner when a lady comes up to order a latte. I go on to ask about the type of milk she wants and if she wants a flavour shot or cinnamon or chocolate powder on the top. The conversation that follows is a head-scratcher.)

Me: “Okay, so, a medium latte with 2% milk and no toppings.” 

Customer: “Ooh, I have to ask. Are your beans fresh?”

Me: “The beans come in a vacuum-sealed bag, and the machine is filled from the bottom up every day to ensure the beans never sit in the machine for too long.”

(The machine dispenses beans from the bottom so the beans are never old as we add new beans to the top unless the machine has been idle for a few days, at which point we toss the beans and wash the container out before refilling it with fresh beans.)

Customer: “No, no, I mean when were the beans made? Are they fresh, as in picked recently? I only want the freshest beans!” 

(At this point, I’m slightly confused and show the lady the bag of beans we use, pointing out the “best before” date, which is something like eight months from now, and the packaged date, which is a couple of weeks ago, which is pretty good considering the beans are picked in COLUMBIA and packaged in some small town in ITALY and then shipped to CANADA.) 

Customer: *throws her hands up* “This is unacceptable! I only drink the freshest coffee and espresso. Cancel my order; I’m going to the coffee shop that I know has fresh beans!”

(My coworker mutters behind the lady’s back after she leaves:)

Coworker: “Have a nice trip; don’t come back!” 

(We were beginning to think the lady was expecting us to pull out this coffee plant from the back garden and roast and grind the beans right there. Some people.)