I Can Pick One Reason Why You Won’t Work Out

| MI, USA | Working | July 6, 2016

(I am the manager of a small coffee shop. A friend of mine recommends his sister, a regular customer, to fill an open position. I agree to give her an interview. Later…)

Friend: “So, how’d it go? Do you think you’ll hire [Sister]?”

Me: “Probably not. There’s been a lot of interest, so she’s competing against experienced baristas and servers.”

Friend: “C’mon, please give her a chance. She loves coffee, and loves this place. And everyone needs to start somewhere, right?”

Me: “I know, I know. Also, she misspelled ‘cappuccino’ and ‘espresso’ in her cover letter. The letter she wrote by hand while sitting in the shop, in plain view of the menu board. That’s just careless.”

Friend: “Okay, I see that. But—“

Me: “And the final reason I’m not going to hire her is because during the interview, she picked her nose, looked at it, and ate it, while she was in the middle of answering a question.”

Friend: “Oh. Yeah, good call.”

Pulling Off A Heist With Very Little Brain

| Matthews, NC, USA | Right | July 5, 2016

(We have a customer who comes in almost every day and steals our bottles of honey. He will order a hot tea from our kiosks and use a whole bottle of honey. He will then ask an associate to get a new bottle. After we get the bottle for him, as he leaves later on, he will stick the honey in his newspaper to hide it and walk out. My nickname for him is Pooh Bear.)

Me: “[General Manager], Pooh Bear is back. Can I please say something?!”

General Manager: “No, I’ll handle this. I’ve had enough.”

(Our GM walks over to him as he’s leaving and gets his attention.)

General Manager: “Hey, man, I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to check out the sports highlights from last night!” *opens newspaper* “Hey, man, isn’t that our bottle of honey?”

Pooh Bear: “Oh… uh… Yeah, is that okay?”

General Manager: “No, it’s not okay, dude! Stop stealing our honey. That’s theft. We could call the cops and have you arrested. We have cameras constantly monitoring our store and we have you on numerous occasions stealing from us.”

(He hasn’t been back in almost two weeks now. And that’s how we pulled off “Operation Pooh Bear!”)

An Odd Ex-perience

| Tampa, FL, USA | Romantic | July 3, 2016

(When I was a junior in college, I dated a guy that I really, REALLY liked. We broke up due to major differences in opinion on “how far is too far.” Fast forward several years. We both live in different states several hundred miles apart. I am visiting my hometown and I stop in a local coffee shop…)

Me: “Hi, I’ll have an iced vanilla latte.”

Barista: “Sure thing. Your total is [total]. Just step down to the end and we’ll get your drink ready!”

(I step down to the end of the counter. I hear something fall behind me and turn around, where I spot my ex, who I haven’t seen in five years.)

Me: *audible gasp*

(He makes eye contact with me…)

Ex: *eyes widen, face turns white*

Me: *opens my mouth to say something*

Ex: *books it out the door and into his car*

(Thanks. Nice to see you, too.)

Wish You Could ‘Ice’ Some Customers

| MN, USA | Right | June 16, 2016

(I work at an extremely busy coffee shop. I am working on bar, making and calling out the drinks. We are constantly busy and simultaneously have multiple orders to accommodate. I finish making a mocha for ‘Sara.’)

Me: “Sara, your drink is ready!”

(Two minutes later.)

Me: “Sara! I have your white mocha.”

(Five minutes later.)

Me: “SARA, I HAVE YOUR DRINK READY.”

(Two more minutes later, Sara comes and leans over the register.)

Sara: “Um, excuse me? I have a question. When is my drink going to be ready? I’ve been waiting a long time.”

Me: “Are you Sara?”

Sara: “Yes.”

Me: “Okay, your drink is waiting at the end of the bar.”

(Sara grabs her drink, and immediately gets disgusted look on her face.)

Sara: “Um, I wanted this drink iced.”

(I remake her mocha, iced. Five minutes later, Sara returns.)

Sara: “This is, like, the worst drink ever made. I want it blended.”

(I remade her drink and used all self-control left in my being to prevent myself from throwing it at her.)

And That’s How The Wrong Cookie Crumbles

| Germany | Working | June 8, 2016

(After eating lunch at a popular fast food chain, I decide to go to their in-store coffee shop to order something to go before going back to school.)

Me: “Hi, can I have a small iced vanilla frappe and a chocolate cookie?”

(Both items together would come up to four euros/dollars, but the screen shows only 3 euros. I’m incredibly shy, so I don’t say anything even though I’m confused. The barista, after asking a coworker how to do a frappe, disappears to fetch ice. I watch him add it to the mixer, then pour a brown, chocolaty powder over it. I decide to intervene.)

Me: “Ex- excuse me? I ordered a vanilla frappe.”

(The barista wordlessly grabs a new container and makes my frappe. I relax, hoping I’ll get my order soon. Once finished, the barista turns to me.)

Barista: “So that was a vanilla frappe with chocolate over it, right?”

Me: “No, just vanilla, please. And a chocolate cookie.”

(The barista gives me my frappe, but doesn’t make a move to get a cookie. I try it again.)

Me: “I also ordered a cookie…”

Barista: “Excuse me?”

Me: “Chocolate cookie?”

(He continues to stare at me in confusion. Note that he has a strong accent, so I assume he has problems understanding me.)

Me: “Chocolate cookie?” *gestures to the cookie display*

Barista: *confused stare*

Me: *repeats myself in English* “Chocolate cookie.” *points at cookies again*

(Finally, after I and the other customers in line pointed at the cookie jars a few times more, he moved. He charged me a euro for the cookie and gave me a bag. It’s not until I’m back at school that I realise he didn’t give me a chocolate, but a pecan nut cookie. Even though I cannot eat it, being allergic to nuts, I don’t go back. I don’t think I could have made him understand anyway.)

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