I know it seems like half of my blog-posts come from experiences I’ve had at the coffee shop, grading papers. I think it’s because when I am at the coffee shop grading papers, all of the other things that I want to think about come into my mind and try to distract me from the fact that my students are still writing “through the author’s use of diction” or are still spelling the word doesn’t as dosen’t.
Either way, I realized another level of my neurosis today. I get really frustrated with how many questions the baristas are able to ask me just so I can get a drink. When I applied for a credit card, I was asked fewer questions than when I ordered a grande iced coffee with soy milk. (And suddenly our current economic situation makes so much sense).
Take today for example. After 36 hours of self-contained infirmary, I was experiencing some major cabin fever. And if I had to watch Willow on TV one more time, I was highly susceptible to offing myself in some theatrical way. Since I wasn’t drooling on myself, fevering, or dry heaving any more, I decided to head up to Barnes and Nobles to grade papers and be around other human beings.
I couldn’t wait to order a delicious drink to soothe my scratchy throat, but apparently I was going to have to wait for at least 12 minutes of haggling coffee shop banter. Here’s how it went.
Annoyingly Perky and Persistent Barista: Hi, how are you doing today?
Me: I’m fine, thanks. How are you?
Annoyingly Perky and Persistent Barista: I’m doing great. What can I get started for you?
Me: Hmmm. I think I’ll have a grande pumpkin frappucino with soy milk (the complicated names of coffee drinks I will save for another blog, another day).
Annoyingly Perky and Persistent Barista: For only 40 cents more you can get a venti.
Me: That’s okay. A grande is just enough, thanks though.
Annoyingly Perky and Persistent Barista: And would you like me to leave the whip cream off of that?
Me: No thanks.
Annoyingly Perky and Persistent Barista: So a grande pumpkin frappucino with soy milk and whip cream?
Me: Yes…wait no. I don’t want whip cream.
Annoyingly Perky and Persistent Barista: Oh, so no whip then?
Me: Right. No whip.
Annoyingly Perky and Persistent Barista: How about an extra shot of espresso?
Me: Nope.
Annoyingly Perky and Persistent Barista: And would you like a sugar cookie or a double chocolate brownie to go with your grande pumpkin frappucino with soy milk and no whip today? I have a fresh baked sugar cookie right here. [motions to strategically placed sugar cookie the size of a hubcap]
Me: No thank you.
Annoyingly Perky and Persistent Barista: And do you have a members’ card?
Me: No, I don’t.
Annoyingly Perky and Persistent Barista: You know, with a members’ card you would save 10% on all your orders.
Me: No thank you, just the coffee.
(I really want to say, “Yes. I know this because you’ve told me the last 25 times I was in here).
Annoyingly Perky and Persistent Barista: Okay, that will be $5.23.
Me: And how much can I charge you for the last few minutes of my life?
(Just kidding. I didn’t say that last part, but it’s only a matter of time before I do).
Why does ordering coffee have to be such an ordeal? I wish there were two lines at the coffee shop kind of like there are two lines at the airport. There is a line for the frequent flyers who know the drill. I mean, they helped invent the drill. They have their shoes, belts, jackets all off ready to go into the basket before the guy in the other line can even bend over to unlace his double-knotted Nikes. I am here at this Barnes and Nobles at least 3 nights a week so by this time I know what I want and how I want it. There are some people who wandered into the coffee shop for the first or second time of their life, and they are trying to figure out what half of the words on the menu even mean, but I know the drill! What I don’t know is why some of the baristas refuse to treat me like a frequent coffee drinker! Why do I have answer so many questions to get a latte? It makes me want the latte less!
I guess I’ll just have to stick to Sunday and Wednesday nights when my favorite barista is working. He’s the only one that doesn’t pretend that he’s never seen me before every time I come in. He knows what I’m going to order before I order it, he knows I don’t have a members’ card, and he knows that I’m a grown-ass woman. If I want a cookie, I’ll ask for it! I only have to answer one question with him…and it’s always “How was your day?”
I know this sounds like crazy-psycho-babble (as do most of my complaints) but I’m really worried about the safety of some of these inquisitive and unsuspecting baristas. I mean, like all other organizations in our society, their institution of questions is only going to get bigger and bigger until it eventually collapses on itself. And what I’m worried about is when all these generation now kids start growing up and drinking coffee. Collectively they have the attention span of a Jack-Russell Terrier and the patience of a hand-grenade. It’s only a matter of time before one of them tragically explodes in the face of one of these coffee slingers, all in the name of whipped cream.
Be warned baristas. Be warned.
tears are streaming as result of laughter. i love you.
ReplyDeleteyou make my day :)
ReplyDeleteWhen I worked at NY&Co (a.k.a. Lerner) we were required to ask a customer three times if they'd like to apply for a credit card before we could let them off the hook. THREE TIMES! This is in addition to greeting them within a minute of them entering the store, telling them about the sales, checking on them in the fitting room, and suggesting additional items (the goal was 3 units per purchase). It was insanity! Mystery shopping does to the service industry what standardized testing does to the education system.
ReplyDeleteBut my fave is when I think I'm outsmarting the cashier by lying and saying I already have whatever credit/member card they're pushing...and then they offer to look it up on the system so I can use it. Then I'm caught!