My last shift (ever, God-willing) at the coffee shop was sometime around last August. Yet, I still manage to have random recollections worth remembering from my time working as a BAMF certified barista.
There was this one customer, Lisa, who was absolutely crazy. She had huge lips, obviously injected with some chemicals or whatever. She’d come in all bubbly and wide-eyed, hitting on my coworker, Hot Rob (who was an early crush of mine, late-twenties with scraggly facial hair and the proud owner of a white, ‘87 drop-top Mustang). So one day Lisa comes in and is swooning over Rob, saying how she’s never tried espresso before and blah blah blah flirty eyes. When she sits down at a table, still making googly eyes at Rob, I lean over to him and say, “Rob… give her two shots of decaf espresso. Guaranteed she’ll buy into the placebo effect and say she feels sooooo crazy.” So he did, and of course, she did. She bounced around the store after drinking her two decaf shots, actin’ a fool because she thought espresso would make her feel crazy! Good times.
Another favorite of mine involved one of our seasonal drinks, called the Ho Ho Mocha. It was a mocha made with mint syrup (sick!). That’s about 4 ounces of pure sugar with espresso poured over it, filled up with steamed milk, and topped off with whipped cream and bits of crumbled up candy cane. This blonde-haired skinny bitch comes in and orders a Ho Ho Mocha but she wants it made with skim milk but still with whipped cream, and extra hot. Brynn and I are working the bar together, so Brynn sets up the cups and pulls the shots and I steam and pour the milk. The lady is waiting for her drink and Brynn leans over and whispers, “Have some fun announcing this drink.”
So I put a lid on the drink, put it up on the counter and say loudly, “Extra hot, skinny Ho with whip!” Brynn, of course, is cracking up beside me and I just smile at the lady as she grabs her drink, turns around and walks out of the door without even a smile or a thank you. No sense of humor, that one. I mean, seriously, if you order a drink that can be likened to a prostitute, you should probably laugh about it.
Oh well, I appreciate the humor of the situation.
