Every day, EVERY DAY, at least five people come through drive-thru that are like this.
They order their drinks, sometimes like normal human beings, sometimes like complete assholes, then pull up to the window.
Me: Hi! How are you today?
Me: Okay, that will be
Me: /hands them their drink Thanks, have an awesome day!
wolfofthesuburbs asked: Every time I see a post by you, my heart smiles
Eeep… Feels!… Thank you
Anonymous asked: i'm having mental health problems. how does personal leave of absence work at the bux? i've been here for seven months, but just transferred to a new store.
I have never experienced someone needing to take a leave of absence (other than for school) first hand, so I am not 100% sure. If I remember correctly, you should be able to leave on good terms with the intentions of returning, and it shouldn’t be an issue? I could be totally wrong here, anyone else know the answer?
"What do you mean you can’t take my breast milk and steam it into a latte, using the tears of a baby dragon instead of espresso, and flavour it with the secretions of an endangered black rhino? MY Starbucks ALWAYS does that for me!"
Contrary to popular belief, I am an actual human being, not a handcrafted droid created by the coffee overlords, not a fucking program in The Matrix, and not Rosie the god dammed Robot. Therefore, I am susceptible germs, viruses, disease and the plague.
That means, when you sneeze or cough, you should cover your mouth or turn away, instead of doing it directly into my mouth.
You filthy animal.
I used to have a regular customer at my old coffee shop job who was super nice, always tipped, was chatty, etc.
He seemed like this sweet older man, totally harmless. Never saw him as a threat (usually I can spot a creeper from a mile away)
One day he was like “I have a book I think you’d like” um, okay, that’s sweet. Sure, why not.
But then I get it and it was some “Men and women: dealing with relationships” self help book from the 70’s. LOLWUT?!
Then he started waiting for me outside for me to go on break. One time, I shit you not, he set up a whole card table with a table cloth and picnic basket and flowers, the works, and he even brought a guitar. SERIOUSLY, he brought a god dammed acoustic guitar. It was like a scene from a John Hughes movie
but with more rape vibes
So, basically, I had to hide inside for a good chunk of the summer. He even tied ribbons around the tree by the bench where I ate my lunch.
And once he emailed me (fucking having to have my email on the shop’s business cards as manager) telling me that he bought me a pink, poofy princess dress and took me to a ball in a chariot. Yep. Psycho babble.
There were quite a few creepy little things he did to make me start carrying bear mace and knives on me, but what put the icing on the cake was the day I was in the kitchen, with my back turned, store completely empty. Turned back around and there was a blueberry pie just sitting on the prep table with a love note attached.
I wish I could make this shit up, seriously, I’d be writing crime novels instead of making coffee.
I quit my job and went to Starbucks right around that time, so luckily I don’t have to worry about him any more… for now.
(side note: He also rides a bike around town a lot, and when he does he wears safety orange, head to toe, with little orange flags all over his bike - he’s very easy to spot. Sometimes I see him while I’m out driving, and I have to quickly convince myself that he isn’t worth the vehicular manslaughter charge).
Listen, I get it, the Tall, Grande, Venti system is moronic. I will give you that. It is pretentious and confusing for new customers, and gives the illusion of fanciness when in reality, it is a fucking cup of coffee. Get over yourself, Starbucks.
Now, moving on, if you are looking at a menu, no…
I might start reblogging some oldies but goodies posts of mine just for the fuck of it. You’ve been warned.
Literally every time I have to be on front register.