irish.lemon

greetings from your friendly neighborhood barista. this is a mental list i’ve compiled over the past six months through quiet observations of ultimately being your personal public servant. let’s get right down to the hall of shamers since no one cares about genuinely good people these days. i’ve broken this list down into a set of rules that i think we can all agree to live by from now on…these are all situations with which i have had to deal with with no exaggerations, i assure you:

rule 1: – you are not allowed to complain that it’s early at 8am…i wake up at 3am to be at work at 4am and serve the public coffee long before i’m allowed to have my own.

rule 2: – you are not allowed to complain when your sixteen pump, extra hot, white mocha in a grande cup isn’t HOT ENOUGH! especially when i advised that it be poured into a venti cup for volumetric reasons and you declined. it’s not my fault that you have no concept of elementary science. if there’s the equivalent of a shot [glass] of steamed milk in a 16 oz cup filled at least 12 oz of the way with thick white mocha syrup, there isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell the milk or espresso will melt the syrup UNLESS it’s poured into a larger cup of say, oh…20 oz.

rule 3: – you are not allowed to complain that we don’t have a drive-thru…i’ve noticed.

rule 4: – you are not allowed to complain about “wait time” when you’re the third person in line…waiting for two DECAF coffees. i could readily sympathize with your plight if you were stuck seven or eight bodies deep and our brewers, bars, and oven fell to pieces and we had to stomp on the beans like grapes to their unique consistencies and boil water over an open flame to provide your coffee. with all undue respect, waiting for three minutes in line for coffee won’t kill you…i promise.

rule 5: – you are not allowed to change your order at the bar when you’ve already given my cashier a hard time about your unnecessarily complex drink order that you can barely remember yourself…

rule 6: – you are not allowed to tell me that this is your “monthly treat” as i have no sympathy for your almost complete lack of will power and possible addiction to hot milk and syrup topped with whip cream. it’s coffee…not a life choice.

rule 7: – you are not allowed to ask me to put seven sweet & lows in your misto…that’s just disgusting.

rule 8: – you are not allowed to talk on your cell phone while placing your order, especially when the person on the other line has no clue what they want and four more people are ready and waiting behind you. you are equally not allowed to hand me your cell phone to talk to the indecisive disembodied voice on the other line to figure out what they want…

rule 9: – you are not allowed to complain about the mess i’m making while working at the bar with fifteen hot drinks and eight or nine cold drinks in my line. it’s milk and coffee…it’s not as if i dropped a nuclear reactor or spilled some oil on a helpless penguin. if you would like to wait longer, i’ll spit-shine the bar area for you after each drink i finish.

rule 10: – you are not allowed to assume i’m so far below you in society because i work at starbucks. to the “moms of the year” specifically, don’t take your poor life decisions out on me. while you decided to marry the rich old guy, becoming a brood mare that’s unfulfilled staying home with your litter while i work obscene hours of the morning, go to school to complete my bachelor’s with the intention of getting my master’s immediately after, work an internship, and somehow find the opportunity to drink and get laid in my limited free time isn’t my problem…

to all my customers who have the ability to brighten my day after encountering individuals like the ones listed above, thank you! truthfully, i enjoy seeing all of you and i hope that i’ve done all i can to make your experience worthwhile and brighten your day a little bit as well.

the moral of the story is just be kind to your fellow human being. i don’t storm into your job whatever it may be and attempt to tear you down bit by bit. sure it’s a less-desirable job, but it’s a means to an end…i gotta pay for gas and pay my bills and tuition too…