Me: “Thank you for choosing your local [coffee shop]. What can I get started for you?”
Customer: *yelling* A grande vanilla latte!”
Me: “Okay, a grande van—”
Customer: *angrily* “I’m not done! I want that absolutely no foam, and with whipped cream!”
Me: “All righty, a gran—”
Customer: “I am not done! It has to have three honeys in it, with cinnamon and nutmeg!”
Me: “Would you like that sprinkled on top, or steamed into the milk?”
Customer: “On top! Steamed in is disgusting!”
Me: “You got it. A grande vanilla latte, with three honeys—”
Customer: *condescendingly* “I said, NO FOAM!”
Me: “Ma’am, I am repeating your entire drink order back to you to ensure that it is correct, and I was not finished. You have ordered a grande vanilla latte, with three honeys, no foam, with whipped cream, and cinnamon and nutmeg on top. Is that correct?”
Customer: “Yes!”
Me: “Perfect. Is there anything else I can get you?”
Customer: “A venti peach citrus infusion with no ice!”
Me: “Did you want—”
Customer: “Make sure there’s no ice! I’m not drinking it now!”
Me: “Did you want that sweet, or unsweet?”
Customer: “Sweet! It’s not worth drinking if it isn’t!”
Me: “Absolutely. Is there anything else I can get for you tonight?”
Customer: “No!”
Me: “Fantastic, we’ll see you at the window with your total.”
Customer: “Repeat my drinks again!” *haughtily* “I don’t think you got them right!”
Me: “It’ll be [total], around the corner!”
(She keeps demanding her drinks repeated, but my baristas and I ignore her. Finally, she pulls up to the window.)
Customer: “You need to remake my drinks! You wouldn’t repeat them, and you have them wrong!”
Me: “I have a grande vanilla latte, three honeys, absolutely no foam, with whip, cinnamon and nutmeg sprinkled on top, and a venti peach citrus infusion, sweetened, but with no ice, because you aren’t drinking it now. Are these the correct drinks?”
Customer: “That’s what I ordered, isn’t it?”
Me: “Then it will be [total].”
(She grumbles, pays, and receives her drinks.)
Customer: “This can’t be mine! There are no stickers!”
Me: “I made them as you ordered them, ma’am, before the stickers were printed. I hope you enjoy your drinks, and have a lovely evening.”
Customer: “I want to speak to your manager! You have been rude, and you made my drinks wrong!”
Me: *smiling sweetly, as my patience has finally paid off* “Ma’am, I AM the manager.”
(She goes completely white, and speeds away. Five minutes later, I get handed the phone by one of my baristas.)
Me: “This is [Name], how may I help you?”
Familiar Voice: “You’re the manager?”
Me: “Yes, ma’am?”
Customer: “You have a horrific barista in your drive through, claiming to be you! She was so rude! She kept interrupting, and she made my drinks wrong, and I want a refund and an apology!”
Me: “Did you have the grande vanilla latte, with three honeys, absolutely no foam, with whipped cream, cinnamon and nutmeg on top, with a venti peach citrus, sweetened, with no ice, because you aren’t drinking it now?”
Customer: *somehow still oblivious* “Yes! So, she told you about me! I want her fired for gossiping about customers!”
Me: “Actually, ma’am, that was me in the drive through, and I am the one who made your drinks to your exact specifications.”
Customer: “I asked for the manager, not the rude b**** in the drive through!”
Me: “Ma’am, that ‘rude b****’ is still me, and I am still the manager. Given that you have now escalated to verbal abuse, I will be putting in a report to corporate, and I am terminating this call.”
Customer: *starts screaming unintelligibly*
Me: *click*
