Great! Then you will be able to relate to me here.
I work at a Starbucks brewery at the downtown library at West Virginia University…and I love it to death. I work with some awesome people that make me laugh very hard.
However, every once in a while a prick will have the bad luck of being one of my customers in line. There is a particular jerk that comes in with his XXL t-shirt with his Motorola Pebl phone on his ear, and is just a complete ass to whomever answers him. He doesn’t say, “Could I please have a venti vanilla latte,” or “Could I please have every single muffin, bagel and cookie in the display case please, I’m fat and really need to eat everything I see.”
Instead he says, “I want a venti vanilla latte.” Semi-throws his credit card at me. And walks away.
. . .
Now, listen here. I don’t know about you but I try to be as cordial of a person as I can, no matter what the situation is. I think that as long as I am polite, and respectful to people, they will be the same to me. So, I take a breath, and get my milk-a-steamin’ and continue doing what I do best…steam milk.
So, as I am making his latte, Hefty waddles back over to the counter with the phone still to his ear, and asks me “What time does this place close?” To which I reply, “Midnight.”
…and the f*cker rolls his eyes!
. . .
. . .
This shit head is going to roll his ugly shit brown eyes at me as I am making him his gormet coffee?
I don’t think so!
So, unfortunately for him I decided to steam his milk to 200 degrees instead of the standard 160. I think that’s close to like evaporating or turning in to carbon milkoxide or something like that, but I don’t care. I just a’kept on steamin’ that shit with this unhealthy serial killer look in my eyes.
I handed him his venti-200 degree-vanilla-I-hope-it-dissolves-your-insides-it’s-so-hot-latte to him, and he jerks it off the counter and walks away in a queeny-snap-your-fingers-and-say, “No he didn’t”-attitude, and that was the end of the night.
I love my job.