Customer of the day

A young woman came up to the counter last night and ordered her usual tea. Before I rang her up, she told me there was something she wanted to tell me.

She said that the day before she had been in to get a drink really quick and she had parked in the handicapped space in front. I was automatically thinking, "I'm probably not going to be on your side with this story, but go on..."

She said that yeah, she shouldn't have parked there, but she was feeling lazy, and she was in and out. She said that when she went out to her car, there was a note on the windshield that said, "You're not handicapped, ho."

And I managed not to laugh in front of her! Aren't you proud of me? Instead I assured her it wasn't me or my coworkers. I shrugged and told her I thought the note was kind of harsh; her being a ho or not was completely irrelevant.

I'm still not sure why she told me. I felt slightly accused, but really, even if one of us did leave that note, she should feel lucky. Because parking in handicapped spaces when you're an able-bodied ho is illegal.

I would still love to know who left the note.

Customer of the day updates

1. Remember this guy? I've come to find out that he is a regular in the mid-afternoon (when I'm not there) and he consistently puts nuts on the top of his drink. He also has to widen the notch of his lid to slurp his nuts (that's what she said.)

2. And remember this lady? She still comes through drive-thru and gets her four Splenda ice tea. Even though she cussed out a barista, called corporate on our store, threatened to sue, and swore UP AND DOWN she'd never be back.

3. How I could I forget The God Squad? Well, it appears I had, or I haven't been working enough Sunday nights, because I completely forgot how annoying pure they were them until they showed up a few nights ago. Still syrupy sweet and still giggling wholesomely, I might add.

4. And finally, this chick. All summer long it's been her stupid Frappuccino, the one where we have to add so much extra ice to it that it's actually broken down our blenders. But now that the weather's turned cooler, she's back to ordering her hot drink. It's been over two years and she only orders these two drinks. It's like going to McDonald's daily and ordering either a Big Mac or a side salad. Who can live without any variety?

5. Can I just say that people, in general, are so very, very weird?

Customer of the day

After my coworker had handed back a lady's change in drive-thru, I was standing next to the open window, counting said coworker's till. I noticed the lady had opened her car door, and while juggling the small dog on her lap and her huge drink, was fishing for something on the ground. I heard her mutter something, and I turned to her.

"That girl dropped my dime on the ground."

I blinked a couple of times, watching her fumble around for a bit. After it looked like she really wasn't giving up the good fight for the dime, I offered her another one from the till I was counting.

"Here. Take this."

She actually took it.

I've dropped change before at drive-thrus, and I'm here to admit that if it isn't actual paper money, it's gone. And I'm okay with that. There's no way in hell I'd try to retrieve ten cents. Honestly, if you are in so much trouble that you have to worry about every single dime you drop, I'm thinking you should probably stay at home with your annoying little dog.

At the very least, you definitely shouldn't be spending $4+ on a frou-frou coffee drink.

Brazil nuts in your mocha? OH HELL YEAH!

This afternoon, a guy came in and ordered this drink: a large latte with one pump of chocolate, four pumps of sugar-free caramel syrup, nonfat milk steamed to 140 degrees, with light whipped cream and caramel drizzle. I handed him his finished drink and out of the corner of my eye watched him take the lid off. He stirred it, took a drink, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of finely chopped pecans. He sprinkled the top liberally with the nuts, replaced the lid, took another sip and walked off.

WTF?

At what point did he decide chunks of pecans would be a lovely accompaniment to a hot espresso drink? And he carries them around in his pocket? Who carries nuts in their pockets?

And how the hell do you SIP on pecans?

Customer of the Day

A middle-aged couple stopped in last night, one of the busiest nights I've witnessed since around the holidays. I took their orders, and as I handed their finished drinks to them, the man said, "There are a bunch of kids sitting outside, talking on their cell phones."

"Oookay," I replied, waiting for the big revelation like, ...and they're being loud or ...and they're throwing spitballs or ...and they're humping like crazed rabbits on the tabletops.

I stared at them dully, clearly not understanding what the problem was. The woman stepped up and whispered, "They're like, loitering." And her husband gave me a knowing, solemn nod.

I somehow refrained from screaming and foaming at the mouth at them.

HELLO? It's a coffee shop, people. It's the whole purpose of a damn coffee shop. To get a coffee and then loiter about. There isn't a time limit, and as long as the kids are being polite and orderly, I can't make them leave! It was a lovely night, and I'm sure you wanted to sit outside and enjoy your mocha choco latta ya ya while you talked stocks and bonds and played old people footsie with each other, but seats are a first-come, first serve basis here. You know, how like most places in the fucking free world are.

No, I didn't scream that. I wanted to. What I really did was blink a couple of times and say, "Oh. Oookay. I see."

They looked slightly annoyed with the whole situation, but they grabbed their drinks and left, walking past the thugs sitting out on the patio, who were probably texting Satan himself while guzzling white mochas.

Fuckin' kids.

Customer of the Day

On Sunday nights, a church youth group comes to visit our store. I like to lovingly refer to them as The GodSquad. There's usually anywhere from four to ten of them, and they're just the most wholesome kids you'd ever want to meet. They sweetly order hot chocolates and teas, and then sit out in the lobby and braid friendship bracelets. No lie. Isn't that just so syrupy sweet you could gag a little?

However, child of the big G or not, it's never cute to order a "mocha choca lotta ya ya" at a coffee shop. I do not think it's funny. In fact, it may annoy me so much that I can't even crack a smile when I reply that we JUST ran out of mocha choca lotta ya ya. No, I might looked pained and slightly irritated. Which in turn makes the remaining members of the GodSquad feel embarrassed and awkward for you, and how are they supposed to braid bracelets with that kind of vibe?

Customer of the Day

I haven't tested it before, but I'm almost positive that most restaurants frown upon patrons leaving the store and then coming back in four or five times a day for a drink refill. So it should be no surprise to you, Miss But-That-Other-Location-Said-I-Could!, that we don't allow it either. You can get your drink, hang out in the cafe, and then come get a refill before you head back out to your car, but that's the extent of refill time.

And really. Do you think we'll bend the rules for you if curse at us? Really? Your "I can't believe this shit!" is not going to warm the cockles of our hearts and change our policy. In fact, it'll probably cause us to bitch about you incessantly and try to get you banned from the whole damn store, stupid. And then where will you get your large iced tea with four Splendas? Hmm?

Customer of the Day

So when you spill a little of your venti frappuccino on yourself, all by yourself, don't glare at me. Be grateful I brought you a damn towel to mop it up. And don't passive-aggressively say, "So you want to make another one, or should I just take this one?" Even though that frappuccino is just fine, even though you only spilled about a tablespoon of it, I'll make you another one. Oh yes. But I'll also think you are the biggest asshole this side of the county line. And I'll probably blog about it too. Asshole.

Oh, and when your smartass kid says, "It's probably because you put too much whip cream on it," please tell him to shut up. I'm pretty sure the weight of whipped cream didn't make you fumble your drink. Seriously, if you can't handle 24 ounces of cold blended beverage, order something smaller.

Did I mention you're an asshole?

Customer of the Day

"I need a windy mocha frappuccino."

"A..uh...what? A tall?"

"A windy. Frappuccino."

"Um. A small?"

"The largest. Biggest. Windy."

"Oooooh. A Venti. Yes, sure, coming right up."

Customer of the Day

There's a lady that comes in pretty much every night. I think she's on her way to or from work because she's usually dressed in scrubs. I don't think she's much older than I am, and she may actually be younger, but she always calls me "dear." It cracks me up. If I see her drive up, I say hey, want your medium non-fat, no-whip, stirred white mocha? We do this the other night, and when she gets around to the window, she's giggling and says, "My four year old is impressed! He said, 'She's so smart! You didn't even have to tell her what you wanted!'"

See? I'm impressive to four year olds at least!

Customer of the Day

We have this lady who regularly comes in. And when I say regularly, I mean like six times a day. During the winter, she orders a large, six-pump sugar-free vanilla, 2% milk, six Splenda, extra hot, no foam latte. Summer is a large sugar-free caramel coffee light blended drink with extra caramel drizzle on top.

So other than her drinks being absolutely stupid, she also orders them as "Bitchface* latte" or "Bitchface Frappuccino" and expects whoever is in drive-thru to know what the hell she's talking about, and lordamercy if you happen to not know what that means. She spends $30 a day at this joint, you had better know what she's talking about! Or she'll be all pissy and NOT leave that $1 tip!

I've worked at this same location for a year and a half, and even though I totally know the sound of her voice, and I'm sure she knows mine, I make sure I don't know what a Bitchface latte is, just so she has to tell me exactly how many Splendas she wants. I know she hates me for it, but I can't help it. Sometimes that little power trip is the only thing that helps me make it through the day.

*Bitchface isn't really her name. Just what I call her. In my head.

The First "Customer of the Day"

Nice looking middle-aged guy walks up and orders a tall, decaf, non-fat, sugar-free caramel latte. I take his money and slide over to the espresso machine and finish his drink. When I hand him his cup, I repeat the name of the drink.

"Wow. Now that you say it, it's probably not going to be very good at all."

"Well, between you and me, we do call those no-fun lattes."