Teen girl walks in with a four-year-old girl.
Teen: How much is a small coffee?
Me: $1.66
Teen: (Digs in purse. Stops. Looks at me.) Do you think it would be a good idea for her? (points at little girl)
Me: No. She probably won’t like it…
Teen: Oh, she likes it. My grandma gives it to her.
Me: Well are you baby sitting today?
Teen: Yeah.
Me: Then you don’t want to give her coffee.
Businessman wearing a suit walks in. He orders a cappuccino. I am making it…
Man: (staring at a shelf that contains eight jars of biscotti, six bags of three different kinds of coffee, and twelve boxes of four varieties of snack mix) What’s that?
Me: …the biscotti?
Man: (sarcastically) Oh, is that what it’s called? What is it?
Me: Sorry, I didn’t know what you were looking at. There’s a lot on that shelf.
Man: (points at coffee) Coffee. (points at snack mix) Trail mix. (points at biscotti) What is that?
Me: Sorry. It’s… Italian. It’s like a hard cookie. For dunking in coffee or tea or wine. It’s really good.
Man: It’s probably not a big seller.
“I’ll have a large Mexican.”
It’s a common request.
A man just put two pennies in my coffee, thinking it was a tip jar.
I don’t know what’s worse- that my coffee was ruined, or that it was only two pennies.
You know it’s going to be a good day when a two-year-old runs around the store pointing at all the goats on our signs, saying, “Hee-haw! Hee-haw!”
🙂
So, who out there had conversations regarding stool softener at 6:30 this morning?
*raises hand, looks around*
Just me? Really? Oh. Hm.
Today, a man ordered “A large coffee.”
What he wanted was a triple shot-in-the-dark with a shot of hazelnut.
This is why they pay me the big bucks.
Tip: If you shout, “Can you break 100 dollar bill?” I will say no every time.
People are always locking the bathroom key inside the bathroom. We try to curb this problem by attaching the keys to foot-long metal rulers, but it still happens about once per day. It is not a blog-worthy occurrence.
Today, however, somebody took the bathroom key home. Ruler and all.
That, my friends, deserves a blog post. 🙂
(Don’t worry, she brought it back.)
Best part about leaving the house at 6 AM on a rainy day?
My husband is too sleepy to realize what I’m doing when I whisper, “I’m taking the car.”
True Stories of an Urban Barista 