This is just a sample...
Dec. 23rd, 2004 01:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thez...of the idiots who patronize my particular Starbucks, but I feel it's worth mentioning considering how out of their way they went to BE idiots.
Some woman came in and ordered two French vanilla cappuccinos with whipped cream for her mother who was "just out of the hospital," and apparently sitting in the car in the parking lot. "How long will it take? I'm going to go sit in my car until they're done. Should I come back in ten minutes?" The barista at the register suggested that she come back sooner, say in five minutes. I made the drinks, placed them on the bar, and continued down the never-ending line of orders. First of all, some woman picked up one of the cappuccinos and said "This isn't what I ordered! You got my drink wrong! Make it again!" I had to explain that, no, it WASN'T what she ordered. It was someone else's order. It was written RIGHT THERE ON THE CUP. I got to her drink, several cups down the line, went to put it on the bar, and she snatched it out of my hand. Clearly she was upset that other people were in line ahead of her and then served before her, causing her to wait more than sixty seconds for her drink. Her life must be very sad and difficult.
At any rate, the cappuccinos were still sitting there, and they sat there for nearly twenty minutes before the woman who ordered them came back in from her car. For the uninitiated, cappuccinos are half steamed milk, half foam. That foam doesn't last for twenty minutes. The woman took the lids off of the drinks, and demanded more whipped cream. I stopped making everyone else's drinks to give her an extra dollop. It wasn't enough. She wanted more, whipped cream to the top of the cup. That's several inches of whip, as the foam had disappeared by then and left the cups rather empty, but I complied because the customer is always right. I made brief, cheerful conversation with her and bid her a good evening and she left. I thought all was well.
Half an hour later, she called into the store and complained that her cappuccinos were half whipped cream.
No, seriously. Let me repeat that for you.
Half an hour later, she called in to the store and complained that her cappuccinos were half whipped cream. There was too much of that whipped cream that she INSISTED I PILE ON, WHILE WATCHING AND TELLING ME TO ADD MORE. She wanted compensation. My shift manager told her that she'd give her two more cappuccinos on the house. "Oh, we're already several blocks away, we don't want to drive back. We want you to mail us some gift cards."
If it were not for the fact that I might lose my job, I would deliver those gift cards to her personally, and shove them up her ass.
Humanity, I'm sorry, but you're down twenty points right now. I suggest you start sending better representatives my way, because when your points hit zero I turn into a homicidal sociopath.
Some woman came in and ordered two French vanilla cappuccinos with whipped cream for her mother who was "just out of the hospital," and apparently sitting in the car in the parking lot. "How long will it take? I'm going to go sit in my car until they're done. Should I come back in ten minutes?" The barista at the register suggested that she come back sooner, say in five minutes. I made the drinks, placed them on the bar, and continued down the never-ending line of orders. First of all, some woman picked up one of the cappuccinos and said "This isn't what I ordered! You got my drink wrong! Make it again!" I had to explain that, no, it WASN'T what she ordered. It was someone else's order. It was written RIGHT THERE ON THE CUP. I got to her drink, several cups down the line, went to put it on the bar, and she snatched it out of my hand. Clearly she was upset that other people were in line ahead of her and then served before her, causing her to wait more than sixty seconds for her drink. Her life must be very sad and difficult.
At any rate, the cappuccinos were still sitting there, and they sat there for nearly twenty minutes before the woman who ordered them came back in from her car. For the uninitiated, cappuccinos are half steamed milk, half foam. That foam doesn't last for twenty minutes. The woman took the lids off of the drinks, and demanded more whipped cream. I stopped making everyone else's drinks to give her an extra dollop. It wasn't enough. She wanted more, whipped cream to the top of the cup. That's several inches of whip, as the foam had disappeared by then and left the cups rather empty, but I complied because the customer is always right. I made brief, cheerful conversation with her and bid her a good evening and she left. I thought all was well.
Half an hour later, she called into the store and complained that her cappuccinos were half whipped cream.
No, seriously. Let me repeat that for you.
Half an hour later, she called in to the store and complained that her cappuccinos were half whipped cream. There was too much of that whipped cream that she INSISTED I PILE ON, WHILE WATCHING AND TELLING ME TO ADD MORE. She wanted compensation. My shift manager told her that she'd give her two more cappuccinos on the house. "Oh, we're already several blocks away, we don't want to drive back. We want you to mail us some gift cards."
If it were not for the fact that I might lose my job, I would deliver those gift cards to her personally, and shove them up her ass.
Humanity, I'm sorry, but you're down twenty points right now. I suggest you start sending better representatives my way, because when your points hit zero I turn into a homicidal sociopath.
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(no subject)
Date: 2004-12-23 09:33 am (UTC)Happy future birthday, btw. You & Jesus got the hookup, yo.