Job Related Suicidal Ideation

Last night, as I was closing, (Busting my ass to get out of there by 10:30 so management doesn't freak) I kept eyeing the box cutters we keep around for various tasks. (Scraping the goo off the steam-wands, opening cartons, slicing up lame-ass customers, etc.) This melodic little chant kept circling through my head. "Down the highway, not across the street! Down the highway not across the street!" So I just tossed a box cutter in a blender and hit 2. Wait- that's what I wanted to do. But instead I poured a double and tossed it in with my Maker's Mark on the rocks. Wait- that didn't happen either. Will workmen's comp cover job induced insanity?

Some more annoyances for you:
Last night some douche-bag and her fat fucking family came through my line. Her fat-ass, condescending, twit-son wanted a $40 gift card and his free half-pound of coffee. Only he wanted a promotional coffee. I explained to him that the offer didn't cover promotional coffees. He rolled his fat eyeballs and asked for a half-pound of espresso instead. That isn't covered under the promotion either, but I just wanted him to go away, so I said okay.

A line was forming. (Now 4 deep.)

I tendered the transaction.
He remembers he wants a drink.
He stares up at the menu board.
...
Two minutes later. (Now 7 deep)
"Gimme a mocha frappuchino."
I called his order.
"No, wait. Make that a caramel one instead." (Now 9 deep)
I re-called his order. My barista dumped the pitcher and started over.
"No, wait. Make that a caramel macchiato. (He pronounced it mash-ee-atto.) (Now 11 deep.)
I asked if he was sure.
He said "yes, gimme a caramel mash-ee-atto".
I called his drink.
"Wait.. can you make that with skim milk and no whipped cream?" (It doesn't come with whipped cream.)
I re-called his drink (venti-skim caramel macchiato).
"No whipped cream!" He barked at my barista, who snapped back, "It doesn't come with whip." Good for her.

I tendered his second transaction. (Now 14 deep)

"Oh, can you grind this for me?"
I said "sure, what kind of coffee machine do you use?"
"It's espresso."
"Right, and will you be using it in an espresso machine?"
"No, I'll just make it in my coffee maker."
I was getting ready to strangle him.
"Does the filter have a flat bottom or a cone shape?"
"Flat. Wait. I mean cone. Mom?! What kind of filter does the coffee machine have?"

Enter the mother (from across the store).
Mom: "The regular kind."
Me: "Flat bottom?"
Mom: "No, it looks like a cone." (People in the line are leaving.)

I go to grind the coffee, come back a few minutes later, and my barista is handing out service recovery coupons to everyone in the shop. The fat ass family doesn't even notice.

Mom: "Gimme a grande, skim, decaf, latte. Grande is the large right?"
Me: "Venti is the large."
Mom: "That's dumb. Okay gimme one of those."
I call the drink: Decaf, venti, skim, latte.
Mom yells at barista: Make sure that's decaf!
My barista grit her teeth. I was kinda hoping she would make it a decaf, venti, skim, extra-lugi, latte.

I ask if she would like anything else. She says no.
I tender transaction # 3.

Mom: "Oh wait. Can I have a pound of decaf espresso?"
I get it for her. (Line out the door.)
Mom: "Can you grind it for me?"
Yes, paper cone?
Mom: "No, it's espresso, grind it for an espresso machine."
Me: "Steam or Pump"?
Mom: I don't have time for this. Just grind it.

I said okay, and ground that shit for a French press. Tee hee.

(In case you don't know, French press is just about the coarsest grind. Espresso is just about the finest.)

I hand her the coffee.

"Next, please!"


Last night was full of dick-heads and douche-bags. I even started the evening in a good mood.