Another best of

I was rolling in a bit on the late side this morning & still had tons of stuff to do when customers started coming in. Not a big deal, mind, but difficult to juggle the usual opening tasks with an influx of customers as well.

In walks Willy Loman. The type, you know, with a little extra confidence pinned to his jacket. He was round in the middle and tall. I'd imagine he orders much of his clothing by catalog. Additionally there was, of course, the gray ponytail. He came in with a backpack over his shoulder, and I began to reminisce about Sneaky Santa. A short while later, the backpack and jacket came off to reveal a dingy white t-shirt and suspenders. I had just finished paying the milkman when he walked in. As he approached, he held up the OPEN/CLOSED sign and proclaimed, "Do you need this?" It hangs from a little suction cup, which he had also removed.
"I don't need that."
"Are you open?"
"We are... I don't need that back here."
He ordered a coffee and offered that he would be back once I'd gotten things together a bit.
"You a new place?"
"We've been here a little over a year now."
"You know in the big city at the STAR-BUCKS [I don't know how else to iterate how he pronounced it, almost as if I'd never heard the word before] they have CDs right up front & they just pop 'em in with all that music already loaded up."
"Yeah I uh... I pick the music here generally." [I'd just put a CD in, the soundtrack to There Will Be Blood] "They used to send us these pop CDs, Cafe Music or whatever, which were just terrible. We never played them, and I don't know why they ever started sending them."
"The city I'm from... In Boston the streets are just paved with CDs!"
"Uh huh..."
Anyway he was a pretty nice guy I guess, just quirky as all hell. It was like nobody had ever had a conversation about media before.

I've been asked a few times now what I like to drink. Back before I worked in a coffee shop I'd order all the sweet-ass milkshake drinks or get a flavor in drip coffee. To be fair, the coffee around campus was piss poor. Generally I just drank soda. On my way to class in the mornings I'd pick up a soda or sometimes a Sobe thing to wash down a multi-vitamin. Breakfast! As time went on though, I realized that I liked coffee much better without any sweetener. I mean I've cut a lot of the sugary shit out of my diet since then, but I'm talking about the taste.
These days I mostly drink regular black coffee. If I'm at a place I don't know I'll typically put a splash of whole milk in there too. During the mornings when I work I'll go through maybe... as little as 8oz of coffee or as much as 25oz. Some days when I'm training I get all wired up tasting espresso, too. I can't get into the spitting thing; it reminds me too much of chewing tobacco. Once I mistook a can of spittle for my black cherry soda and wound up hurling into the sink for about half an hour (followed by chugging water & jamming my finger down my throat).
If I'm feeling adventurous I have a couple of standby drinks.

This is an iced americano, for lack of better descriptors. It's a little ice and water with a splash of whole milk. Then I pull a triple ristretto espresso over some cool water (to keep from shocking it on the ice) and put it all together. It's pretty strong at first, since I don't mix it in, but that way the last bit is more manageable.

This is just a slight variation with some frothed milk spooned on top. An iced cappuccino, if you will. If you won't then I don't know what to tell you...

Come get some

A couple of frustrating situations I'd like to relate.

This morning a woman came in whom I didn't recognize. That's not unusual of course. And anyway I can't remember every fuckface that comes in the door. Sometimes I'll have people who will ask for "the usual," but fucked if I know what drink you ordered on one or two other occasions over the period of a few weeks. Okay, well, in this case it became clear she'd been there before (which I'll get to in a second). Things immediately start to go wrong here, so I played it out best I could. I'll admit I'm easily irritated. Let's just get that out of the way. Chances are you do something that annoys me. I'll survive. I do things that annoy me. To other people I mean... not to myself. There are those rare interactions, however, wherein nothing seems to go right.
1. She began by identifying her coffee as the "Peabody" rather than the appropriate "Peaberry." Not that big a deal, right? I nearly corrected her but thought better of it. It was already the third time that mistake had been made today.
2. She produced five whole bean stamp cards, each with roughly two pounds (out of ten) stamped. Surely not the first time I've combined somebody's cards, but this was a record. If you've ever had business cards printed out, you'll know that they can be pricey. Further irked, I still combined the cards & kept my composure.
3. I ask her if she needs anything else, and she declines. After paying, she brings up the complimentary coffee that comes with whole bean purchases. She could have said something when I asked but... well I guess that doesn't matter so much. Thing is, the free coffee comes with a pound or more purchased. She had about 3/4 of a pound. I don't know but... it seems like she would only have waited until the transaction was over if she knew she didn't have enough. Let's suss out how this went, shall we?
Me: I'm sorry; the free 8oz comes with a pound or more. You have about 3/4 pound here.
[I'll mention at this time that it is extremely annoying when people want to try to accumulate their free coffees. That's why we say at the "time of purchase" so it's not so goddamn difficult to complete the transaction. I mean who the fuck is going to keep track of that?]
Cust: Oh, so I'm not a good enough customer?
[see if you can come up with a reasonable answer to this question]
Me: Oh you know... silly policies.
Cust [walking away]: That's why people come to small businesses, right? To avoid all that corporate stuff.
Me: Mmmm...

Alright, so who the fuck are you then? You've obviously bought coffee here before, but I don't know you. You expect something for free because...
1. You're a regular customer.
2. We're a small business.
Do either of those make sense? I just... can't get my head around it.

Another thing, which happened yesterday, is another sticky one. I've written about bums before (this city's got 'em). As far as vagrants go, this guy wasn't so bad. I was told a bit later that he was known in nearby businesses as "Sneaky Santa." I suppose his beard was reminiscent, but he seemed a bit to decrepit to pull off anything sneaky.
SS might have been sitting at a table out front, but I believe it's more likely he was simply walking by. A customer decided he "looked like he needed a cup of coffee" and bought one for him. Congratulations, fuckwit! Your $1.40 has bought you a feeling of self-satisfaction that will keep you smug for the rest of the goddamn day! Meanwhile, I am given the opportunity to express my goodwill for the next six hours. Sweet! I can't ask him to leave because... well I guess he's sort of a customer. He sat there at a table inside, smelling of his salty-sweet self, making awkward eye contact with every hapless customer who walked in the door. On the plus side, I got to enjoy a range of reactions to his presence such as eye-averting fear and short-lived pity. From time to time he tried to make conversation, but I was unable to glean more than the following:
1. It's hot outside.
2. Barbers shave with a straight razor.
3. Our company roasts its own coffee in a small town which he has visited (or possibly grew up in).
4. He also has a Bojangles cup.
5. A query: is that sound a television? No. It is, in fact, the radio.
I briefed my replacement on the situation, to which his response was "No more refills for him!" Well played, friend. Well played indeed. I grew worried that he would reemerge today, but he has not (so far). Perhaps the heat, in conjunction with a scorching hot diuretic, killed him.

A special thanks to Wikipedia and Google image search for making the unnecessary hyperlinks possible.