I’m in an unfamiliar town and I’m trying to grab a coffee before I have to get back to the car. I walk past three busy coffee shops, all with queues stretching out the door. I carry on down the road and spot a little independent shop down a side road, and no queue! I head inside and it looks really quaint, but it’s nearly empty save one seated customer and the cashier, currently on her phone. 

Me: “Could I have a large—”

She puts her hand up to silence me. I wait and wait.

Me: “Can I have a large mocha, please?”

Cashier: *Sighs* “We’re out.”

Me: “Okay, err, a large cappuccino.”

Cashier: *Sighs* “Fine.”

I wasn’t finished ordering, but frankly, I am done with her. She makes the coffee and slams it down on the table, spilling it. She looks at me with a mix of expectation and attitude.

Me: “Are you going to tell me my total? The price isn’t listed.”

Cashier: “It’s [total].”

I pay cash and grab my coffee, and then she stops me.

Cashier: “Oh, yeah, fill this out. You can win a cake or [something].”

She gives me a feedback form.

Me: “Yeah, I will, actually, and don’t think I won’t make a comment about your crappy attitude.”

Cashier: “They don’t pay me to care.”

The shop wasn’t there the next time I visited. Such a shame so many independent places are disappearing, but in this case, I can’t blame the big corporate chains.

I work in an area where NFL owners, professional athletes, and the like live. One of our regulars is some guy who has spent his life wallowing in orange spray tan and has the whitest hair one can imagine.

Every day, he comes in and orders a green tea; literally a teabag with hot water. No matter what, there is always something wrong with it: too hot, too cold, cup is weird, whatever.

During my last two weeks at the store, this guy comes in when we’re being slammed. He orders and I call out:

Me: “Green tea latte for [Customer #2].”

Notice I did not say, “green tea.” He comes up and snaps:

Customer #1: “Excuse me, it was green tea. It’s literally water and a tea bag. How stupid can you be?”

I turn toward him and look him dead in the eye.

Me: *Loudly* “That’s not even your f****** order! Every time you come in here, it’s something else. If we’re so stupid, then go to another location.”

He stepped back and didn’t say anything after that.

I’m stood in line at a coffee shop to order some drinks right behind a few teenage girls. They all order seasonal drinks, take photos, and basically act like typical teenage girls.

I order next.

Me: “I’d like a black medium coffee and [lists four seasonal drinks].”

The server eyes me oddly. I’m guessing I pronounced them wrong.

Me: “My daughter has her friends round; they like these drinks.”

This seems to satisfy him and he goes off to make the drinks. The girls get served and they sit down. As I collect my order, I hear them complain.

Girl #1: “They put the sticker right on the logo.”

Girl #2: “Mine, too.”

Girl #1: “They did it on purpose. They’re looking over at us now.”

Girl #2: “I can’t take a photo of this.”

Me: “Err, sorry, but I’ve ordered pretty much what you have. Do you want to take a photo of mine?”

Girl #2: “Yes, please!”

They took their photos and posed. I found it all a bit odd, they were just being young, and social media is important to them. They weren’t hurting anyone. I don’t go there often enough to have seen the girls there again, but I hope they’ve found better baristas that aren’t as petty.

Customer: “Can I just get an Americano?”

Me: “Sure, tall or short?”

Customer: “Huh?”

Me: “Eight ounces or twelve ounces? Same shot in each, so the eight-ounce is stronger.”

Customer: “Yeah, I get how it works. Umm… well, I just spent a year in Italy, so just disappoint me with whatever you want.”

A guy starts coming in and he clearly loves our place. After he’s been in a few times and we’ve talked a bit, he tells me that he has a website where he writes about food and coffee and whatnot and that he wants to write a piece on us because we are so great. Awesome, I always love to hear stuff like that!

One time, I made him this beautiful drink, and five steps out the door, he dropped it. Of course, I made him a new one and didn’t charge him; that’s the kind of place we are.

We have this policy that if you want to use credit or debit and the order is under $5, there is a twenty-five-cent fee, in lieu of an actual minimum. I’ve been told that this isn’t particularly… legal, but I don’t know, whatever; it’s a quarter, and you get your coffee without having to buy a bunch more stuff.

One day, the guy comes in and orders a drink and uses credit. I mention this policy as I’m ringing him up.

Me: “Hey, so if the total is under five dollars and you’re going to charge it, we just add twenty-five cents. Is that all right?”

He looks at me aghast. Aghast! I rarely even get to truly use that word. So, I have that to thank him for, I guess.

Customer: *Firmly* “No.”

He abruptly turned on his heels and walked out the door. I never saw him again. I find it interesting that something so negligible could offend somebody so much as to completely cut something out of their life.