Customer: “Hi, I’d like a mocha latte cappuccino.”

Me: “Okay, which one of those would you like?”

Customer: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Well, those are three different things. A mocha, a latte, or a cappuccino?”

Customer: “No, they’re not! That’s what I want!”

Me: “Ma’am, technically–”

Customer: “Just get me what my husband always orders!”

Me: “What does your husband always order?”

Customer: “You know, some… coffee thing!”

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Me: “That’ll be [total]. Also, would you also like to make a donation to our water conservation fund?”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “It helps to save habitats for animals and–”

Customer: “But why would we need to pay for that? Water doesn’t run out. I’ve left my faucets on all day and water came out the whole time! And besides, I only drink coffee, not water.”

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Customer: “Oh, I just love your accent! Are you British?”

Me: “No, ma’am. I’m a New Zealander.”

Customer: “Are you Aussie?”

Me: “No, I’m a New Zealander.”

Customer: “Is that part of Australia?”

Me: “No. We are part of the commonwealth, though.”

Customer: “New Ziland?”

Me: “New Zealand.”

Customer: “True New Zealanders say New Ziland.”

Me: “I am from New Zealand.”

Customer: “Prove it!”

Me: “Would you like some ice-cream from the chilly bin to enjoy at your bach with the whanau? It’s a tropical five degrees outside, miss.”

Customer: “That wasn’t kiwi; that was gibberish!”

Me: “Actually, most kiwis would understand that, ma’am.”

Customer: “No way! Prove you’re a New Zealander!”

Me: *out of desperation* “Sweet! I’m beached as, bro!”

Customer: “I believe you now!”

Customer: “Oh, you have new pastries! They look great!”

Me: “Those are our new vegan baked goods. They’re also organic.”

Customer: “Ew! I never eat anything vegan!”

Me: “I doubt that. A lot of stuff is vegan. French fries are vegan.”

Customer: *looking mortified* “There’s no meat in French fries?!”

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(A customer arrives at the drive-thru window.)

Customer: “I’m so sorry. I’m not sure what it is I want, but I know it’s flat and it has caramel and whip cream and it’s a cappuccino.”

Me: “I think I know what you want. It’s blended and frozen, like a milkshake but with coffee.”

Customer: “Maybe. I’m just not sure. I always get my granddaughter to order it for me because she speaks the coffee language.”

(This goes on until I convince her to just come to the window and describe it to me in person. One of my fellow baristas helps her to realize that she does, in fact, want what I think she wants).

Customer: “Yeah, one of those crappuccinos. That’s it…”

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