I used to work at a [Coffee Chain]. The building we were in caught on fire and was being evacuated.
Customers asked us to not evacuate and finish making their Frappuccinos. I told them:
Me: “I’m not dying for an eight-dollar smoothie!”
And I made security escort them out.
Me: “I’d like a medium mocha, please, but made with skim milk.”
Barista: “I’m sorry, what kind of milk?”
Me: “Skim milk. Do you have non-fat?”
Barista: *Pauses* “We have non-fat, but we don’t have any skin milk. I’ve never even heard of skin milk. Will non-fat work?”
Like many Canadians, my friend worked in a famous coffee chain named after a hockey player. These restaurants can get very busy during the peak times of the day, so patience can run a tad thin in the workers.
[Friend] lived in a small town with a high retiree population, so this coffee house gave a senior’s discount, and the seniors knew about it. It was common for them to request their discount along with their order to ensure they got it.
One day, a senior woman came in during the afternoon rush, and [Friend] greeted her as he normally did.
Friend: “How may I help you?”
Old Lady: “I want a small coffee and my senior’s discount.”
[Friend] began pouring the coffee into the cup.
Friend: “Okay, what would you like in your coffee?”
Old Lady: “I want my senior’s discount.”
Friend: “Yes, ma’am. I will give you your discount. How do you take your coffee?”
Old Lady: *Getting more demanding* “I want my senior’s discount!”
Friend: *Getting exasperated* “Ma’am, I understand. I will give you your discount, but I first need to make your coffee. What do you want in your coffee?”
Old Lady: “MY SENIOR’S DISCOUNT!”
My friend had reached his end. The senior’s discount on a small coffee worked out to be about $0.10, so he reached into the cash till, picked out a shiny new dime, dropped it into the coffee, put the lid on, handed it to the old lady, and said
Friend: “Okay, ma’am. One small coffee with the senior’s discount.”
He immediately went for a break and never came back.
As far as [Friend] could tell, the lady didn’t have any kind of mental issue; she had the full capacity of all of her functions and was just being demanding due to entitlement.
I work at a coffee shop. A woman came in and ordered an iced latte. When I handed her the iced latte, she asked:
Customer: “Why didn’t you steam the milk?”
Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, did you want a hot latte?”
Customer: “No, I want an iced latte with steamed milk!”
I work as a supervisor at a certain large coffee chain. This afternoon, I have about thirty minutes left in my shift. A kid — no more than twelve or thirteen — comes in with his family and walks up to the counter.
Kid: “I was in the drive-thru of your store yesterday afternoon and ordered three large coffees, but we only got one.”
Automatically, red flags go off. How do you drive off with only a third of your order and then not call or come back until the next day?
Me: “Do you have a receipt?”
Kid: “No.”
Of course not.
The kid is very pushy and persistent, so a coworker and I look up all the orders in that price range four hours before and after he says he visited.
Me: “Look, we can’t find any order even close to what you said you ordered, but I’ll still offer you two small drinks.”
This is a company policy of sorts.
Kid: “We should get three larges!”
After we refuse him several times, he gives in. Apparently, he thinks the drinks should be ready instantly, too. There are about eight drinks ahead of his, but every thirty seconds or so, he comes back to the counter.
Kid: “Are my drinks ready?”
He pointed several times to drinks waiting to be handed off in the drive-thru (the counter was right behind me) to ask me if they were his.
When his drinks did come out, he and his family remained in our lobby and proceeded to rearrange the furniture and converse loudly, tearing up napkins to drop on the floor for the remainder of my shift. I made a point to pass on the story to the supervisor who was coming on as I was leaving, just so she wouldn’t give him any more free drinks.
