cupcake supremacy

when cupcakes rule the world…

nothing good ends in “ccino” May 19, 2009

Filed under: daily life,work — cupcakesupremacy @ 12:49 pm

So let’s talk about everyone’s favorite topic: work.

I’ve come to realize there are two types of customers that come into Starbucks. Those who know exactly what they want and those who have no idea what the hell they are paying for.

Let’s look at the former first. Now most of the people that come into my store are nice people. With all of the hospitals and businesses around, we have slews of regulars that are in 5 days a week getting the same exact thing. Occasionally there is a barista that is not as skilled as myself (ha! just kidding, I’m a space case and make my fair share of mistakes) – but yea, these other baristas don’t listen as well and occasionally someone will get the wrong drink or have something missing or whatever.

Most of the people with super specific drinks are very pleasant about it. “Oh sorry? This was supposed to be…” etc. But then there are people with this super inflated sense of self and are downright nasty about it. On one hand, I guess I can understand that if you’re paying 3-5$ for a drink, you want it to be right. But the part of me that was raised to be considerate of other human beings thinks that if you want your drink that damn specific? Make it yourself.

My *favorite* customer is the soy chai lady. She comes in 3-4 times a week and I learned very very quickly how unpleasant she can be if her drink is made wrong. Now I don’t mind special orders. The way that we make things and the way we write cups is set up in a way that it really doesn’t take any more effort to make a drink the standard way or a special way. Except this lady’s drink.

She gets a grande 5 pump, soy, no water, no foam, 180F chai latte. Not really that big of a deal. Except if one of the guys makes it? It’s perfection. I’ve watched some of my slacker male coworkers free pour her soy into the cup (soy foams up like a mother) and she declares it the greatest drink ever. Meanwhile, I’ll spend 2 minutes scraping foam off and repouring only to have her hand it back because “It’s light. I can feel the foam.” Only to open it up and see a half a mm of foam around the edge.

So while I would love to make her drink horribly wrong every time, I’m the only one who will suffer as I’ll have to remake it. So the soy queen gets her way each and every time and gets to be an insufferable whore in the process.

Now our other subset is the group of people that REALLY have no idea what they are ordering/paying for.

People pick up the wrong drinks all the time. Even though we call the drinks and they are marked on the side, I guess I can understand some of the confusion. Like if the cups are the same size. And if your brain is the size of a peanut.

Yesterday though I was working and my favorite supervisor was on bar. I was running around doing whatever and she stops me to ask if I would take this drink over to the lady sitting on the stage because she took the wrong one.

The drink? A tall caramel frappuccino.

photo by flickr user rlevans

photo by flickr user rlevans

I walk up and say “Did someone order a caramel frappuccino?”

“I did?” says some lady as she takes a sip of a venti skinny vanilla latte.

“Well here it is,” I say, as I hand it to her.
“Oh, I don’t even know what this is.”
“That’s a latte…”

it was impossible to find a decent picture of a venti latte.

it was impossible to find a decent picture of a venti latte.

Now, okay, maybe you don’t know the difference. Maybe you didn’t realize the drink you ordered was cold and you were drinking a hot beverage. But shouldn’t you have noticed firstly that the cup you grabbed was pretty damn big for a SMALL? And secondly that you ordered a CARAMEL drink and a skinny vanilla is most certainly not even close in flavor?

You people kill me.

Also as a public service announcement if you’ve gotten this far. If you order a drink that comes both hot and iced, PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU SAY ICED. Iced drinks are easy, I will secretly love you for ordering an iced espresso drink and make it happily. But when I go through all of the trouble of steaming milk for you only to hand it off and your face to fall “This was suppsed to be iced?” “Um where was it supposed to be iced? In the alternate universe where I can READ YOUR MIND?!”

So iced. One extra syllable that will save me from sticking my face in the coffee grinder.

xoxo, your friendly neighborhood barista.

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3 Responses to “nothing good ends in “ccino””

  1. Woy Says:

    This post is awesome. I read it twice. Hah!

    Well done.

    Incidentally, the people who don’t know what they ordered remind me of the people that walk in front of you in the mall very slowly – like they’ve escaped the Home and aren’t sure where they are.

  2. cupcakesupremacy Says:

    yea it is really, truly ridiculous. people amaze me. i don’t even mind when people ask questions about what is in a drink or ask for suggestions because at least then they know what they’re buying!

  3. KG Says:

    I used to be a barista at Starbucks a couple of years ago when I was a senior in High School. My favorite customer was a man who would come every Tuesday and Thursday before work and get his “weekday” drink (his words, thank god, not mine) and every Saturday for his “weekend” drink. He would regularly claim that I didn’t put the four (4!!!) extra shots of espresso in his coffee that he asked for, regardless of whether it was a “weekday” or “weekend” and I was forced to remake his drink, at a minimum, two times each time he came in. My favorite day was a Saturday when we had a line at least 15 customers long and he got so perturbed with the wait, my attitude, and my ineptitude that he physically walked behind the counter, shoved his finger at the espresso button and pointed “LOOK. SEE. REAL FUCKING HARD ISN’T IT? WHY DON’T YOU WANT ME TO BE HAPPY?” (all verbatim, I promise) which sparked an uproar of angry parents and bemused looks.

    Needless to say, we never saw each other again.

    Long comment short, I hear you. Oh, do I hear you.


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