Couldn’t do a server post this week, and I realized I only had one barista one. People seemed to like it, so here’s another one. 🙂
Everyone knows that one of the most aggravating customer service jobs is in the coffee industry. So many people crawl out of bed, cranky to the point of an aneurysm, craving nothing more than the sweet release of the caffeinated coffee bean, ground up perfectly in their morning beverage. They dress themselves for whatever, get in their car, and drive to the nearest coffee shop. When they have arrived, they have still not had the chance to wake up quite yet, and as they enter the cafe doors they hunt down the poor, innocent victim they will have their way with this day.
The barista standing behind the counter.
Being a barista is an extremely overlooked job. Most people think it’s easy being behind a counter, taking drink orders and then sending it off to someone else to make.
But they’re wrong.
Baristas, like most jobs in the food industry, are vitally important to the American society’s well-being. If you think about it, we rely on coffee more than we realize. What if they shut down Starbucks? Dutch Brothers? Seattle’s Best? What would we do if they even shut down the local cafe’s people who pretend to be anti-corporate go to?
Unfortunately, the grand majority of the population shares the same stipulation on baristas as they do servers: They are nothing more than slaves who are only there to give you what they want. They stand there with smiles that can probably be pinned down to a serial killer’s wish to murder their customer, happily taking their drink order and processing it as quickly as possible.
But behind that fake smile is a whole array of thoughts that would make George Washington proud to be the father of this country.
Side note: The following story doesn’t take place in a Starbucks. While not all Starbucks baristas may share the majority of the thoughts this particular barista has, I am confident most baristas who do not work at Starbucks do. Also, the barista in this story is working alone, with no partner. Barista Says and Barista Brain occur simultaneously.
Barista Says: “Hi, there, what can I get for you today?”
Guest One: “What do you have?”
Barista Brain: “The hell do you mean, ‘What do I have’? Those giant signs behind me are what I like to call a menu; it’s probably a good place to start there.”
Barista Says: “Well, I suppose it would depend on what you’re in the mood for. Do you want something chocolatey, something not sweet, something bitter…?”
Guest One: “Do you have any Diet Coke?”
Barista Brain: “What? Diet Coke? No, you blithering inbred idiot, this is a cafe. We serve coffee. Not soda.”
Barista Says: “Oh, no, I’m sorry, we don’t serve soda here. I can make you a handcrafted Italian Soda if you’d like.”
Guest One: “How about some soup?”
Barista Brain: “Why does everyone always f^cking ask me if we have soup? Do you see soup on the menu? No. Do you see huge vats of soup boiling behind me? No. When the f*ck have we ever served soup?!”
Barista Says: “Again, I have to apologize, but I’m afraid we don’t have any soups here either.”
Guest One: “Salad?”
Barista Brain: “Honestly, this person needs to get gone.”
Barista Says: “No.”
Guest One: “What do you have to eat?”
Barista Brain: “Take a look at the giant food case that you are literally standing right in front of — with your hands on, no less. That may be a good place to start wondering what we have to eat.”
Barista Says: “Oh, if you’d just look right here in our food case, that’s the samples we have today, sir.”
After taking a good, long look, and holding up the rest of the line, the man decides against ordering anything.
Guest One: “I’ll pass, thanks.”
Barista Brain: “F^ck off, thanks.”
Guest Two: “Can I get a mocha?”
Barista Says: “Sure, what size would you like?”
Guest Two: “A tall, I think would be fine.”
Barista Brain: “This isn’t f*cking Starbucks. They use tall, grande, and venti. We, and everyone else who is smart in the world, use small, medium, and large. Just go with it. Just go with it, Barista, it’s not worth fighting over.”
Barista Says: “All right, and anything to eat for you? Cinnamon roll, cheesecake…?”
Guest Two: “Oh, no, that will be all right.”
The barista takes the money from the Guest (who drops a quarter into the tip jar, molding a smile on her face that the barista knows is because she feels proud of herself) and waits by the bar for her drink. The barista begins to make it, telling the next guest they will be right with them.
The barista makes a small mocha, adds the whipped cream — the entire time being watched by the guest — and places it on the bar.
Guest Two: “Um, is this mine?”
Barista Brain: “I don’t know, didn’t you just watch me f^cking make it?”
Barista Says: “Yes, ma’am, this is your mocha.”
Guest Two: “I’m sorry, I ordered a tall.”
Barista Brain: “F*cking kidding me? This is a ‘tall’.”
Barista Says: “I’m sorry, I thought this was a tall?”
Guest Two: (In a very demeaning voice.) “No, tall means large.”
Barista Brain: “All right b!tch, listen up. First of all this isn’t f^cking Starbucks so you shouldn’t be ordering it the way they do over there anyway. Second of all, if you are going to f*cking order like you’re in Starbucks, don’t f*cking come at me sideways and think that I got my sizes wrong. I’m the barista, b!tch, I know what a tall, grande, and venti are. And I know what a small, medium, and large are. Don’t f%ck!ng bitch and moan because you’re the idiot.”
Barista Says: “I’m sorry, but I charged you for a small. I can remake it though if you’d like?”
Guest Two: “This is absolutely ridiculous. I’m never coming here again.”
Barista Brain: “Well, don’t let the door hit your ugly @$$on the way out.”
Barista Says: “Sorry about that! Have a great day!”