Ok, so...
I was the asshole barista today.
I had a rough day to begin with... and an even rougher night before. We did have a good shift closing, though. We had a great crew who knew what they were supposed to do. We even got out of there 15 minutes early.
Anyway, I show up today and the place looked like a coffee-ground-grenade had detonated. The bar was backed up by about 15 minutes. There was a line out the door. There were two poor baristas: one chained to the blender turning out fraps as fast as he could, the other floating between a register and the espresso bar.
I was supposed to be on a register, but the place was a madhouse. I jump on the bar (in the nick of time, I might add) and crank out about 15 drinks.
I had a lot of hover-ers and whiners, but not more than standard.
Only one really big douche-bag worth complaining about...
some lady asked for an extra hot latte. I made her extra hot latte and handed it to her. (I steamed the milk to 175 degrees. It scalds at 180, and then the whole place smells like burnt plastic.)
She looked at me and said "THIS is not extra hot". She slammed her cup on the bar so hard that the lid came off and her "not-extra-hot" latte and the "not-extra-hot" milk sloshed all over her hand. She jumped back, clearly scalded, and ran to the condiment bar for napkins. So I steamed the milk to 177, remade her drink and set it on the bar. She sheepishly picked it up and slank out to the parking lot burned and embarrassed.
I actually kinda felt bad for her.
I had a rough day to begin with... and an even rougher night before. We did have a good shift closing, though. We had a great crew who knew what they were supposed to do. We even got out of there 15 minutes early.
Anyway, I show up today and the place looked like a coffee-ground-grenade had detonated. The bar was backed up by about 15 minutes. There was a line out the door. There were two poor baristas: one chained to the blender turning out fraps as fast as he could, the other floating between a register and the espresso bar.
I was supposed to be on a register, but the place was a madhouse. I jump on the bar (in the nick of time, I might add) and crank out about 15 drinks.
I had a lot of hover-ers and whiners, but not more than standard.
Only one really big douche-bag worth complaining about...
some lady asked for an extra hot latte. I made her extra hot latte and handed it to her. (I steamed the milk to 175 degrees. It scalds at 180, and then the whole place smells like burnt plastic.)
She looked at me and said "THIS is not extra hot". She slammed her cup on the bar so hard that the lid came off and her "not-extra-hot" latte and the "not-extra-hot" milk sloshed all over her hand. She jumped back, clearly scalded, and ran to the condiment bar for napkins. So I steamed the milk to 177, remade her drink and set it on the bar. She sheepishly picked it up and slank out to the parking lot burned and embarrassed.
I actually kinda felt bad for her.
posted by abbiapple at 12:49 PM
2 Comments:
My girlfriend works at Starbucks (Oxford, UK, Cornmarket St Branch. Woo hoo for the Starbucks massive).
Your day mirrors hers so much it's scary. It's like Starbucks is one big parallel dimension where nothing ever changes the world over and all customers are c**ts who think they own you.
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I love the 177 lady. I'm not sorry, I think she deserves her burns and it made for a hilarious story.
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