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Wasting Precious Time And More Precious Coffee  

, , , , , | Right | August 16, 2019

I work as a barista at a chain known for getting tough customers with crazy customized drinks, but we’re used to it.

We have this regular who always orders this crazy drink with all kinds of additions; 8.5 pumps of caramel in his venti caramel frap instead of four, fewer coffee pumps but extra espresso, java chips but not as much as usual, and so on. 

He also has a thing for new baristas — he really likes to get on their nerves — and even though I’d worked there for at least eight months, this was my first time actually making his drink. It was my time to shine! 

So, I followed the exact, ridiculous instructions on the cup. When I was done pumping the syrup, this man said, “No, that’s six! There wasn’t any syrup coming from the first few pumps!” 

There was definitely syrup coming out of the first few pumps, but when you’re a barista at [Coffee Chain], the customer is basically a deity. 

So, I poured out the contents of the cup, rinsed the cup, and started all over again, making sure he could see what I was doing and that I was doing it right.

By this point, a whole-a** line of drinks had been built up and my bar support was nowhere to be found. 

I was ready to finish his drink by topping it off with whipped cream when he literally pulled out the cup from underneath and swirled the contents around and went, “Yeah, you know, I can already tell this has too much ice in it.” 

I was getting a bit tired of the guy, naturally, and a bit panicked about the number of customers waiting to get their drinks. But of course, I said, “Well, I can make it again for you if you like. I’d rather make sure you like your drink!” 

“No, never mind,” he said. “I don’t have time for this. Finish it up so I can leave.” 

As he requested, I finished the drink and handed it out to him, saying that I hoped he liked it and wishing him a nice day.

I continued making the other drinks in line as he walked over to the condiment bar to grab a straw and take a sip. He then looked over to me and basically yelled, “Well, I don’t know about you, but, this drink is awful and I hate it.” 

After that, he poured the contents of his eight-dollar frap into the trash can, followed by an empty cup, and left. 

I bet he still was thirsty, because he returned a few hours later, really noticeably shattered about the fact that my shift wasn’t over yet.

These Boots Were Made For Walking, So Please Walk Away

, , , , | Right | January 24, 2019

Customer: “Hi. I’d like to trade in some shoes.”

Me: “All right. What do you want to trade them for and what size? I’ll grab them right away.”

Customer: *points to the shoes on the shelf* “In a size ten, please.”

Me: “No problem, just a minute.”

(Three minutes later.)

Me: “Here you go, sir. Do you want to try them on first?”

Customer: “No, it should be fine.”

Me: “All right, sir. So, where do you have the shoes you want to trade in?”

(When he walked in I assumed they were maybe in his car or his wife had them or something.)

Customer: “Here they are.” *points to the shoes he’s wearing*

Me: “You want to trade in those shoes you have on your feet?”

Customer: *starts getting a bit annoyed* “Yes, of course. Now hurry up, please!”

Me: “Well, sir, I can’t take the shoes back if you’ve worn them and they’re dirty; they need to go back in stock to sell them once we’re done.”

Customer: “Just do it, then; it doesn’t matter if they’re dirty.”

Me: “It does, actually, sir. Do you even have the receipt or the box with you?”

Customer: “No, I threw them away. Why would I keep it?”

Me: “Well, sir, for situations like this.”

Customer: “That doesn’t make sense! Let me speak to someone who can actually help me.”

Me: “No problem.”

(I grab my coworker and explain the situation to him before he goes to the customer.)

Coworker: “I’m sorry, sir, but as my colleague said, we can’t do anything for you without the box or receipt. And the fact that you’ve been wearing them for a week means they’re dirty, and it’s not our job nor responsibility to clean them once they come in dirty. We can’t do anything for you.”

Customer: “Well, f*** you and this store, then; I’ll just go to a different brand of stores!”

(The customer walks off grumbling about our “terrible” service.)

Me: “He knows he can’t trade in shoes at stores where he didn’t buy them, right?”

Coworker: “Probably not, but that’s not our problem.”

The Light Was Red, And Black, And White

, , , , , | Legal | January 14, 2019

In the Netherlands, we have intersections without traffic lights or traffic signs regulating the right of way. On these intersections, the rule is that the driver coming from your right-hand side has priority.

I’m a white male. I have been a driving instructor for ten years, so I think it’s safe to say that I do know a bit about traffic rules and traffic laws. I nearly get into an accident because a car coming from the left-hand side almost hits my car. The driver manages to stop with screaming tires.

A black, young woman immediately gets out of the car and starts swearing and cursing. I tell her that she needs to calm herself because she is in the wrong for not giving me right of way.

This may have not been the wisest thing to say, because she becomes more irate and starts yelling louder, calling me a racist, and screaming that I am discriminating against her.

That makes me laugh, so she calls the police.

Long story short: the police come and are mildly amused by her discrimination charges, but less amused when it turns out that she has let her insurance road tax and annual car check lapse and she is driving with a suspended license. And thus, the police officers become racists and are discriminating against her.

At least, that’s what she screams as they take her to the police station.

This Bureaucracy Is Killing Me!

, , , , | Healthy | October 13, 2018

(I am working the night shift in a student team. One of our tasks is getting blood and stuff for the operating surgeons all around the hospital. This night a sixteen-year-old boy on a scooter has been hit by a car and is haemorrhaging profusely. I am called to get blood for the blood transfusion that needs to be done. However, due to the fact the boy is being reanimated while receiving a blood transfusion and an operation, there is no time to fill in a form. This is the conversation I have with the man at the blood lab:)

Me: “Hey, I don’t have a form, but I need blood for the sixteen-year-old patient that’s bleeding out downstairs.”

Blood Lab: “If you don’t have the form, you don’t get the blood.”

Me: “But they don’t have the time to fill in a form, as they are operating on him while giving a blood transfusion, and he was just reanimated.”

Blood Lab: “But you don’t have a form.”

Me: “Yes, I know, but the boy is dying.”

Blood Lab: “Well, it’s not my fault if he dies; come back when you have the form.”

(Sir, I know that you were technically right, but is a form more important than the life of a sixteen-year-old boy?!)

Dropping An Awkward Bomb

, , , , , | Friendly | August 14, 2018

(A coworker told me this story. They have friends over from Germany who were born in the 50s. My coworker shows them around the city of Rotterdam. While they love the city, they keep on comparing it to other cities. The text below is the latest of a string of complaints about the historic center of Rotterdam. My coworker is getting fed up with it.)

Friend: “I went to Utrecht and saw the lovely old center. And Amsterdam, oh, that too had a lovely historic center. But Rotterdam… Rotterdam has no historic buildings at all! Such a shame; why don’t you have a historic center like the other towns? It’s all so modern. I thought Rotterdam had such a rich history, but all the historic buildings are gone! Such a shame. Why is that?”

Coworker: “Because you guys bombed it!”

(There was an awkward silence, and the friend no longer mentioned it. Later on, the friend apologized, having learned that most of Rotterdam was bombed during the beginning of World War Two. Even though the friend wasn’t born back then, she did understand why my coworker didn’t appreciate the comments about the lack of a historical center from a German person. They are still friends to this day.)