When I managed a coffee stand, I had a semi-regular who came in once every ten to twelve days. She came in two days in a row so she could complain about one of my employees.

I had recently become the manager and was making some changes. One, specifically, was to standardize how we charged people for their drinks. THIS woman — who had an absolutely ridiculous drink, by the way — had bullied previous managers into “her price” for her drink, and no, she didn’t tip.

One afternoon, I got a call from the girl who was working, warning me that I was probably going to get a complaint about her. Her. The Nicest Girl You’d Ever Meet. I asked if the complainant was known to us, so she described the drink (that’s how baristas know you).

When the customer showed up the next morning, I knew exactly what it was about. Regardless of what she said about my employee, she was really complaining about being charged full price for her drink. And I wasn’t about to punish someone for doing what I told them to.

Long story short, I told her that, since she’d thought her drink was fine at the time, aside from that, I didn’t care. She gave me this look (you know the one).

Customer: “Well, I guess I won’t be getting my drink, then.”

It was clear she FULLY expected me to grovel for her business.

Me: “Okay, see you later!”

Six months later, she came back. She was INCREDIBLY polite, drinking black Americanos, and tipping. She had gotten perma-banned from somewhere, and I wish so badly that I knew the story!

My mother and I spend the day doing some Christmas shopping in a nearby city, and we decide to stop for drinks at a chain coffee shop. I go to order our drinks while my mother goes to use the ladies’ room.

Me: “Hi. Could I have a medium Earl Grey tea without milk, and a medium Terry’s hot chocolate, please?”

Barista #1: “Sure, was that green-top milk with the tea?”

Me: “No, no milk, thanks.”

Barista #1: “Okay, and a small Terry’s hot chocolate?”

Me: “Medium, please.”

Barista #1: “Oh, oops, a medium. And did you want whipped cream on that?”

Me: “No, thanks.”

Barista #1: “Okay, so one medium Earl Grey, no milk, and one medium Terry’s hot chocolate, no cream. That’ll be [price], please.”

As I’m paying, [Barista #1] turns to [Barista #2].

Barista #1: “Medium Earl Grey with green-top milk and a small Terry’s hot chocolate.”

Me: “Medium hot chocolate, and no milk, please.”

Barista #1: “Oh, yeah. You know, I’m just losing the plot today. Completely losing it. I’m standing here looking at a plate, thinking, ‘What is a plate?’”

I head over to the area where [Barista #2] is making the drinks. After he finishes making the tea, I notice him making what appears to be a small hot chocolate.

Me: “Sorry, is that a medium?”

Barista #2: “…”

Me: “…”

Barista #2: “…”

Barista #2: “Just have that one. I’ll make the correct one, too.”

Me: “Oh, okay! Thanks!”

He finished both hot chocolates and slathered them both in whipped cream, and I thanked him again and took my drinks to a table. After a couple of minutes, my mother joined me at the table, looking down at the extra drink in confusion. I just burst into giggles. These baristas had clearly had a long day!

Customer: “I need twelve [different types of hot drinks].”

We confirm the order, they pay, and we start making them. They come out like a conveyer and we place them on the counter, with the customer taking them one by one.

After he takes the seventh drink or so, he comes back with some of the earlier ones.

Customer: “These ones aren’t hot! Remake them!”

Me: “They’re coming out hot, sir, but they will cool down a little.”

Customer: “I need them all hot. Remake them!”

We try to speed up a little but it’s inevitable that just two of us making twelve different drinks can get them all out at the same time. The customer comes over after we’ve handed another seven drinks over.

Customer: “Not fast enough! These are cold now, too! Remake them!”

Me: “Sir, no matter how fast we go, the earlier drinks will not be as hot as the newer drinks.”

Customer: “I need them all hot!”

Me: “Sir, this is just how the universe works. We cannot stop this process.”

Customer: “Your other store downtown does it for me!”

Me: “Then they should call the Nobel society, sir, because they just broke science!”

It took the manager explaining that we couldn’t stop this process before the customer left with their drinks of varying (but all still quite hot) temperatures. In the end we made over twenty drinks for him!

Related:
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 12
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 11
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 10
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 9
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 8

I’m sitting on the floor in the back room sorting stock while listening to a coworker serving a customer.

Customer: “I want two cups of black coffee and one with milk.”

Coworker: “So, a cup of black coffee and a black coffee with milk?”

Customer: “No. I want two cups of black coffee, and one with milk.”

Coworker: “Yes? A black coffee without anything and a black coffee with milk.”

Customer: “I… No. Two cups of black coffee and one with milk.”

I can’t take it anymore, so I stick my head out of the door.

Me: “[Coworker], he wants three cups of coffee in total.”

Customer: “Thank you!”

I frequent a kiosk at the train station to get a coffee, muffin, or cookie, mostly because of the girl working there. I’m female myself, and she is the most mesmerizing fairy I’ve ever encountered in my life.

She has asymmetrical bright red hair and several facial piercings, and she somehow makes the stupid work outfit look good. She’s also cheerful and patient with every single person she encounters and works really fast when she sees people in a hurry to catch a train.

I once even saw her catch a butterfly that was fluttering around the coffee machine in her hands and take it outside, mumbling:

Fairy Girl: “Now, now, little friend, don’t worry. I’ll take you to a place where there’s so much more room for you.”

In other words, I am utterly infatuated with this wonderful creature. One day when there are at least ten other people around, I manage to blurt out:

Me: “You’re very beautiful!”

I clap both hands over my mouth, and she turns a very adorable shade of red, not quite matching her hair.

Fairy Girl: “Um… Th… thank you so much. I’ve always thought you are very um… really nice, too, and um…”

We just stare into each other’s eyes for a couple of seconds, while other people in line sigh around us with little red hearts in their eyes… except for one lady.

Lady: “Eww! You disgusting [lesbian slur]!”

Me: “Oh, don’t worry, ma’am. I’d never let anyone like you get anywhere near me.”

Silence.

Fairy Girl: “Please may I have your phone number?”

We’re going on our first date next week!

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