Hold the Foam

Working for different coffee shops over the years, I have come to learn many things. The first of which? I really hate Starbucks. I don’t drink coffee, so I can’t even litter this post with the “their coffee tastes like burnt mud” type of statements that I hear from other people on a weekly basis. What I CAN tell you, is that they have created an egotistical monster.

While in the last couple of years, a tune of about 1,000 Starbucks cafe’s have closed, they are still the most popular chain-based coffee shop in the world, and like Tim Hortons in Canada, you can find one on every other corner. Everyone knows the name, and they make billions of dollars a year…but they have also developed a new breed of customers that I am done dealing with.

“I’ll have a venti…”, “Wow, you are more expensive than Starbucks…” and “Do you guys have frappuccinos?” are a select few phrases that I am done listening to. Take a hot second to look at the menu, and you will see that our sizes do not include the word “venti”, you will see how expensive we are right off the bat, and that we call our blended drinks something that does not have the word “frap” in it. But if I had to pin point the one thing that will literally end up with my being committed…*drumroll*

DO NOT come into my establishment and order a caramel macchiato. Why? Because I am going to give you a, by definition, caramel macchiato. I am going to hand you a double shot of espresso, combined with a pump of caramel, and a scoop of milk foam on top. The glare behind your Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses will start burning into my skull, you will get pissed, voice how incompetent I am, and  that I shouldn’t be working at a coffee shop. Guess what? Time for a coffee lesson!

Cafe Latte: A shot or two if espresso coffee at the bottom, a full cup of steamed milk and a scoop of milk foam on top.

Cafe Macchiato: However many shots of espresso, with a splash of milk, and a scoop of milk foam on top. Generally served in the smallest cup you’ve got.

Latte Macchiato: A full cup size of steamed milk that is “stained” by a shot of espresso. The coffee is poured into the milk, and generally the drink is not stirred, causing the coffee to sit more at the top, and ever so slightly sinks down to the bottom.

A Starbucks caramel macchiato is an example of a latte macchiato, and this is the primary cause of confusion. Not a single popular coffee shop chain has “latte macchiato” on the menu, probably because it’s so similar to a cafe latte. Whatever the reason, Starbucks has tainted the word, and not a day goes by where I don’t want to punch someone in the face for it. And you know what the best part is? They don’t tell you that the caramel macchiato has vanilla in it, too.  The only ~caramel~ thing about that drink, is the drizzle they put on top. LOLZ SRY HOPE UR NOT ALLERGIC!!1!1

Suckers.

An older woman came in tonight. Long fur coat, GINORMOUS framed glasses, stinks of upper class. She’s with her husband and another couple. While the other male in the group starts to ask roughly 13 questions about the menu, our furry dressed friend (FDF) feels the need to chime in at random times.

FDF: Do you guys use milk or water for your hot chocolate?
Me: We use milk.
FDF: Do you have real milk?
Me: We have 2%, skim and soy milk options.
FDF: wow so no real milk….
Me: ?????

I wasn’t certain what this broad was getting at. To be so adamant about this “real milk” she spoke of…was she talking about Raw Milk? Was she really thinking that this little coffee shop in a downtown area would be selling unpasteurized milk to every customer, with all the health risks and whatnot? It was later discovered that apparently to her “real milk” = whole milk.

Whatever.

Later.

Me: Sir, did you want the whipped cream on your hot chocolate?
FDF, interrupting: Do you guys have real whipped cream?
Me: It’s canned. It’s low cal though, and it’s actually really good considering.
FDF: No. I am talking about REAL whipped cream. Have you ever had it?
Me: I have.
FDF: Such a different taste, right? Wow. You guys don’t have anything real here.

Yup. Everything in here is fake. A SHAM.

Later.

Husband: Do you like the chocolate chip cookies? Be honest.
Me: They’re good, but the chocolate chip scones are my favorite.
FDF: Yeah? I love scones. Do you have a microwave you can heat it up in?
Me: Sure do. Right at the end of the counter.
FDF: Now are these like American scones? How did they compare to English scones?
Me: ….can’t say I have ever been to England to try one.

One minuscule benefit of having people like this come in, is the rare occasion (such as this one) when you have one of their friends rolling their eyes, and commenting on their shenanigans. Even your BFF here knows that on a scale of 1-10 on the annoyance scale, you’re registering a rough 12.5. Take your fake milk, take your scone, and feel free to choke on a bag of dicks.

In this economy, it’s horrifyingly common to see/hear about homeless people on the streets. Unemployment and foreclosure percents are the highest they’ve been in decades. Stories of the once well established entrepreneurs, have become CNN-worthy news about their falls from grace. I find it easier not to pass judgment on a homeless person nowadays. You never know their story, where they came from, how they got there, etc.

However.

When you come into my place of employment, you instantly begin talking to yourself, you smell like you just crawled out of a dumpster, and your body language screams “EVIL INTENTIONS!!”….I will be behind the counter judging your every action.

I had a lady of this caliber smoke a cigarette in our bathroom the other day. Guess what is another 8 paces past the bathroom door? OUTSIDE. I get that it’s cold out, but come on! I feel like it would only be my life where I have a homeless chick in the bathroom at work, smoking while dropping a deuce. One in a million shot this girl’s ass is on fire, because lit cig + flatulence = KABOOM. But you know what? THAT WOULD BE MY LIFE. Moral of the story: don’t smoke up in my bathroom and leave your ashes all over the floor. I’ve gotta sweep that shit up, ya’ know.

Last summer, we had a short, stocky middle aged man that would always come in and ask for a cup of ice. For the longest time, we would oblige. He seemed to be a genuinely nice person, and always made small talk with us…usually about baseball. He had a weeeeeird obsession with baseball. As time went on, we discovered he was bat shit insane, and was probably drunk approximately 99% of the time we saw him. We soon discovered that he had been stealing from our tip jar for lord knows how long, as well as the occasional bagel sandwich snack in our front cooler. He was the first (and maybe only, if I am up-to-date on my work knowledge) customer ever banned from our store.

I get that times are tough, but guess what, friends? You are loitering in a centrally located place of business, in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the state. I can’t afford the lattes either. Try Leo’s down the street. Them gals are friendly. Bet they’ll treat ya’ real nice.

Ahh, if only.