The answer is no.
Tonight at work a grown ass man came in to work and was asking about every single thing on the menu. He had a tie-dyed green shirt on with little stick figures with dreadlocks that read, “Jamaican Me Crazy.”
Right away I knew I wanted to jump out of the nearest window, but I continued on with his order. One after the other he kept asking me, “What kind of drink is this?” Did I mention he was talking like he was 5 years old? He talked very slowly, and was trying to like figure words out in his head, which, in my opinion is disrespectful.
Anyway, as he finally is done asking me what espresso is, and how it is incorporated in to a latte, he tries to tell me that he owns a coffee shop back home. So, anyway I ask him, “Would you like 2% or skim milk in that?”
His response, “Oh yeah, 2%. Back home where my granny’s farm is, we have a cow that produces 2% milk. You guys ‘oughtta come down here some time. It’s 117 Maple Street. Back home on my Granny’s farm is the best milk.” Keep in mind it took him about 3 minutes to say that entire sentence. No lie.
Ayumi and Mike (the other two with whom I am working) both look at me immediately, expecting some sort of reaction. My response:
“Oh, well thanks anyway but I have plenty of 2% milk here at my discretion. Have a good night!” and I hand him his latte. THEN…he says, “Yeah I’m just going to stick around while this thing cools off.”
Uh, I steamed the milk to 160 degrees, that thing isn’t cooling down anytime soon. So, then he wants whipped cream, blah blah blah.
“Okay, whipped cream. Check! Have a good night,” I say as I am handing him his drink again.
“Alright, you too. Come to my granny’s farm, we have Jamaican and Italian coffee beans,” he says as he turns the corner and is out of sight. I look over at Ayumi and Mike and they are beat red, laughing their asses off.
Not funny. Think about this next time you eat your cereal, ya’ll.