The order was two tall cappuccinos (a his and hers yuppie golden years special). She's one of the fastest workers around. The store is slow and there's no milk ready. She steamed some fresh milk for them while the shots brew. Unfortunately, steaming the milk - which I would have wanted instead of milk that had been stewing all day - may have been a mistake.
She makes the cappuccinos - in order, espresso, steamed milk and milk foam.
She hands off the drinks and the Golden Guru has an issue - apparently because he heard a milk steamer going.
"I WANT SOME ICE," he barks, before he ever even touches the drink. There is no please or thank you and the tone of command is implicit in his voice. The barista exists to serve him. Her low creature can't fathom the needs of a man of his skill, his grace, his virility - "I NEED SOME ICE."
This must happen a lot, because she scoops up a few cups with a cup and asks if he'd like to keep the cup. "I WANT THEM IN THE COFFEE." At this point, there is a bit of an eye roll she gets the the ice.
He opens the cup and she tips the scoop with the ice cubes. "NOT TOO MANY! I DON'T WANT ALL THAT ICE! WHY DID YOU PUT ALL THAT ICE IN THERE? I SAID I DIDN'T WANT ALL THAT ICE!"
There is definitely a sigh. "I WANT ANOTHER DRINK. I CAN'T DRINK THIS ONE NOW."
Everything gets real quiet. Even the sound system drops a level, as if the tension is going to ramp up a level. Grandpa Golden Years is standing at the handoff bar, glaring. The barista cranks it up into high gear and starts slamming things.
I hear spoons, pots, silverware and anything else behind the bar that can be banged, slammed or crashed to make noise doing just that in an aggressive passive-aggressive display of displeasure.
However, instead of just making the drink a few degrees cooler - WHICH WILL ACCOMPLISH THE SAME EFFECT - the old man gets antsy and starts stage-managing the drink.
"I WANT YOU TO MAKE IT AND THEN PUT TWO ICE CUBES INTO IT. I WANT EXTRA FOAM TOO. JUST LIKE THAT."
There are daggers coming out of the barista's eyes - and she is trying with extreme prejudice to look everywhere except at the man. If looks could kill, everyone within a five-block radius would surely have been reduced to slag hours ago.
Things continue to slam. She more or less throws the drink across the bar, although she does it "professionally." What is her reward?
A NASTY LOOK AND A STOMP ACROSS THE FLOOR. Where they spend the next 45 minutes sipping two tall cappuccinos and staring down the barista as if she committed some awful crime.
2 comments:
And yet another lovely moment "serving" so called "people."
When servers, or wait staff or sales clerks or ANYONE is nervous and says, "I am sorry, I just started this job," I always say, "I am the perfect customer for you, then. I am verrryyy patient. I've had "first time on the job," too. I know how that feels. When I see crap like the above, I get up and apologize for them.
Oh god the worst type of customer ever! Clearly cappucinos do not need ice. They are 50% foam for heaven's sakes! Just Say Yes really bites sometimes!
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