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Please, No S’More!

, , , , | Working | February 19, 2017

(My boyfriend and I are regulars at our local chain coffee shop so they always make our drinks without question or issue, and the baristas and I get along well; they know I’m not a problem customer and I only care about my drinks tasting good and being caffeinated, rather than tiny details. My boyfriend and I are in a neighboring town and stop at their chain coffee shop of the same name. It should be noted that I have a mild dairy intolerance. I can handle a little in various forms, but drinking a latte made from dairy milk will make me sick, especially with added whipped cream.)

Me: “Hi, can I get the S’mores drink, but in a hot latte form, and with coconut milk, please?”

Employee #1: *scowls* “Uh… I don’t think we can do that.”

(Another employee overhears and meanders over to the register. They talk to each other while never taking their eyes off the register screen, but they clearly aim their words at me, though they never make eye contact with me.)

Employee #1: “She wants a S’mores in a hot latte.”

Employee #2: “We can’t do that.”

(I don’t want to be THAT customer, but I don’t have a choice at this point.)

Me: “Sorry, but they do it for me at my regular [Coffee Shop] without a problem.”

Employee #2: *sighs dramatically* “Uh… fine, okay…” *points to register screen while [Employee] #1 rings it in* “I guess just put in a vanilla latte, and then marshmallow cream… okay… and now chocolate.”

(They finally get it rung through; all the while, their attitudes and facial expressions make it clear that I’m a huge inconvenience for this order.)

Employee #2: *still staring at the screen instead of looking at me* “We do layers in the S’mores drink, so the layers won’t be there if we make it hot. Just so you know.”

Me: “That’s fine. All the flavors are going to the same place anyway.”

(I laugh to attempt to break the tension. [Employee #2] sighs dramatically again and walks away.)

Employee #1: *scowling* “That’ll be [total].”

(I pull out my phone to scan my membership barcode from the payment app.)

Employee #1: *harshly* “Hold on, I need a NAME first.”

Me: *taken aback* “Oh, um, [My Name].”

Employee #1: “NOW you can scan.”

(I scan, and then my boyfriend decides he wants a sandwich. He doesn’t eat pork and, again, our regular shop obliges this with ease.)

Boyfriend: “Can I get a bacon, egg, and gouda sandwich without the bacon?”

Employee #1: *suddenly smiling and way more polite* “Sure! Okay, your total is [total].”

(I scan the barcode again for payment. I take a step to the side to wait for our order and I hear my name called. The barista is holding my empty cup, so I walk up to him.)

Barista: “Sorry, what was it you wanted, exactly? They put ‘Ask Me’ on the cup along with all this stuff.”

Me: “Oh, a S’mores in the form of a hot latte, please.”

Barista: *smiling nicely* “Okay, cool. Thanks! That’s easy to make.”

(In the meantime, my boyfriend has gotten his sandwich. He opens it to make sure they’ve taken off the bacon… which, of course, they haven’t. He doesn’t feel like dealing with the rude people at the counter again, so he just picks it off and throws it away. At this point, we’re both pretty irritated at the first two employees for their bad attitudes and for getting my boyfriend’s simple order wrong. We’re talking about it amongst ourselves while waiting for my drink. The barista overhears and comments about how he always makes himself lattes out of the frappuccino drinks flavors, and that it’s not hard to do. He even says that the flavors blend together and it tastes the same anyway, so it shouldn’t matter. I tell him I’m not upset with him and it’s not his fault. He hands me my drink, I thank him, and we leave.)

Me: *in the parking lot, inspecting the label on the side* “Wait… this doesn’t say coconut milk on it. I can handle a little whipped cream, but if I drink a whole cup of milk, we’re going to have issues.”

(My boyfriend nods in agreement and we go back in. I approach the nice barista who made my drink.)

Me: “Excuse me, but did you make this with coconut milk?”

Barista: “Did you want coconut milk?”

Me: *sighs* “Yeah, I told the cashier that, but if she didn’t put in on the cup I couldn’t have expected you to know. It’s not your fault.”

Barista: “Sorry about that. You can keep the other one. Maybe for him?” *gestures to my boyfriend*

Me: “Oh, okay. Thank you. Sorry about this.”

Barista: “Don’t worry about it. It’s our job to make sure you get out of here with the right drink.”

Me: “Thank you. I’ll be leaving here today with a smile on my face completely because of you. I’ve never encountered such attitude at [Coffee Shop] as we had to deal with, with those two.” *gesturing to the register area*

Barista: “I’m sorry about that.”

Me: “Thanks, but again, it’s not your fault. I appreciate you being so helpful and nice.”

Barista: *finishes making my drink* “There you go. Have a great day, now.”

Me: “Thanks. Same to you!”

(He had remade my drink in a size bigger than what I’d ordered. My boyfriend and I talked for a while on the car ride about how stupid that situation had been, and if it hadn’t been for the barista who actually made my drink(s), we would have left in pretty bad moods. We wanted so badly to tip the nice barista, but we knew that they pooled tips and we really didn’t want to tip the rude employees. We definitely will be thinking twice about going back to that particular coffee shop, for sure!)


This story is part of our S’Mores Day roundup!

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He’s A Cracked Egg

| Right | February 17, 2017

(Practically closing time and a spacey customer walks in and eventually stumbles to the register.)

Customer: “Can you fry some eggs up for me?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “You sure?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “I’d really like some eggs.”

Me: “I can’t help you.”

Customer: “Where can I get eggs?”

Me: “I don’t know, but not here.”

Customer: “I really want eggs.”

Me: “I can’t make you eggs.”

Customer: “Really? I thought you said you had eggs.”

Me: “No. I said we don’t have eggs.”

(A long and unnecessary amount of time later.)

Customer: “Oh.” *leaves*

Unable To Work In A Crunch

| Working | February 17, 2017

(It was a particularly cold day and I had a half hour to spare so I decided to treat myself to a hot chocolate. At the register, there was a sign behind the person taking orders advertising a new “Cookie Cream Crunch” range, with the option of a hot chocolate, a latte, or a frappe.)

Me: “Hi, can I please grab a small Cookie Cream Crunch hot chocolate?”

Cashier: “Sure. So, that’s one small Cookie Cream Crunch latte?”

Me: “…and a little whipped cream on top. Oh, no, sorry. I wanted the hot chocolate.”

Cashier: “Okay, one small hot chocolate?”

Me: “No, a Cookie Cream Crunch hot chocolate, please.”

Cashier: “Okay, no worries.”

(She spends a little while typing in buttons.)

Cashier: “So one small Cookie Cream Crunch latte with a little bit of whipped cream?”

Me: “Sorry, no. I wanted the Cookie Cream Crunch hot chocolate.”

Cashier: “Right, of course, sorry. $4.20, please.”

(I received a plain hot chocolate.)

Has No Problem Espresso-ing Herself, Part 4

| Right | February 15, 2017

(A woman approaches my counter one evening, clearly unwashed and very angry.)

Customer: “Yeah, how much is a large coffee?”

Me: “$2.25.”

Customer: “And a small?”

Me: “$1.75”

Customer: “Okay, well, I have one of those coupons for a free one.”

Me: “Is it the customer redemption or the buy-six-get-the-seventh?”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “Is it the long red one that says ‘sorry,’ or was it part of your receipt?”

Customer: “Oh, the receipt kind.”

(I fill her order for a large coffee as a line starts to form.)

Me: “Okay, that’s going to be $2.25.”

Customer: “I thought it was free. I can’t afford that.”

Me: “It’s free with your coupon.”

Customer: “I don’t have it on me.”

Me: “Then I can’t redeem it. I have to have a coupon to put in my register. If it’s not there when they count it, I’ll be short and I could lose my job.”

Customer: *very irate* “I’m [Coworker]’s friend. I know [Coworker’s Other Friend]. I come here all the time. Just give me my drink.”

(I assume my coworker has done this for her in the past, but I’m not about to put my job on the line for anyone, especially a stranger.)

Me: “I can’t do that. I have to have it in my register. I can’t redeem a coupon unless it’s physically here. Without it, the store will think I’m stealing.”

(She huffs off, and I work through the line, thinking it’s over. I’m midway through, taking another order, when she comes back. She shouts from the far end of the counter, rudely interrupting another customer.)

Customer: “How much for a shot of espresso?”

Me: “$1.75, same as a small coffee.”

(Again, she leaves, and once again I think it’s over. There’s a lull after the line, and she’s back, again, angrier than ever.)

Customer: “Give me two shots.”

Me: “Okay, that’s $2.10.”

Customer: “You said $1.75!”

Me: “That’s for one shot, not two.”

Customer: “Can’t you just give it to me? This is a bunch of bull-s***.”

Me: “I could get fired for that. I’m not losing my job over a shot of espresso. Now, would you like one shot, or two?”

Customer: “Just give me two.”

(She then throws a huge handful of coins onto my counter and storms off to the other end of the bar. I go to cash her out, and she’s short, by about fifty cents. I quietly take the rest out of my tip cup because I just want her gone.)

Customer: “I’m telling [Coworker] how f****** rude you are. I don’t see why you couldn’t just give me my f****** coffee. I lost the d*** coupon. I had to dig around in my car for the f****** change.”

Me: “If $1.75 is outside of your budget, maybe you shouldn’t shop here.”

(I asked my coworker about her the next time I saw him. Apparently, he knew her, but hadn’t talked to her in years; since she was in prison.)

Coworker: “’I come here all the time,’ my a**!”

 

That Question Is On Thin Ice

, | Right | February 8, 2017

(I work in the cafe of a national chain bookstore, where customers can help themselves to free ice water at the condiments counter.)

Me: *tidying up the condiments*

Customer: “Excuse me. Is this real ice?”

Me: “…what’s fake ice?”