The trip that Colin C. and I took to SoCal's Sunken City in San Pedro was incredible. Down by the sea, where the wind was blowing so fast I almost felt like I could lean into it and drift away. Listening to the waves crash against the ocean and the occasional gull flying by.
It's beautiful, broken, graffitied, and represents urban decay. Or rather, how I like to look at it, nature taking back what it rightfully owns. The Los Angeles Abandoned Zoo is rather like this. Vines growing over everything, wildflowers just starting to bloom, and rusty, old everything entangled amongst it.
The icing on the cake was the fact that there were a bunch of teenagers drinking beer and smoking out in this painted landscape. One even said to us, "Beautiful, isn't it?" Yes.
It made me wonder about my characters. I know the places that I go to make myself feel like a real human being. Star Island in NH is one of them, my spirit's home, if you will. But do my character's feel so strongly about a place - a place that they feel obligated to go back to because they feel such a strong attachment to it? And what happens when something that you thought was beautiful happens in that space, but something in the present corrupts it. Do you go back to the place? Do you still maintain your image of it, or is it now broken like the rest of the world? And what happens when you can't rely on that space anymore?
Anthony, Jessica, and Sophie... Do they have these spaces. I know Sophie's by heart, because she's very much like me. Anthony might not have a safe space. I think he tends to act out too much to want to admit that he has a safe-zone. I know where he runs to that one night, but what happens after he can't run there anymore? He goes elsewhere. I think his space relies more on the company in it. More on the people he is surrounded with and less with his surroundings. And Jessica... her whole journey is about finding a space for herself. Is that enough of a journey?
Photos to come of Sunken City, will be added to my flickr and my photo blog in the scenery section, probably.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Dream: Inside a Museum
We were looking at all these strange, and somewhat beautiful, objects in this three story mall/museum. Everything was for sale, but most things people just looked at as a weird display.
One of which was a station wagon, made by Saturn (my car), which this RV type feel to it. The seats in front were relatively normal, but the trunk had been transformed into this make-shift kitchen area. "Everything you need to go camping," someone said.
We continued rummaging around and I found this beautiful, hand-bound journal. I've always wanted one with pressed pages, where you can still see the splinters of the unrefined wood. There is something so natural about it.
Interpertation:
To see a kitchen in your dream, signifies your need for warmth and spiritual nourishment.
To see or drive a station wagon in your dream, refers to your family and issues surrounding your family.
To see books in your dream, indicates calmness. You are moving toward your goals at a slow and steady pace. Books also symbolize knowledge, intellect, information and wisdom. Consider the type of book for additional clues. The dream may represent your calling into a specific field of work or an area that you need to devote more study to.
One of which was a station wagon, made by Saturn (my car), which this RV type feel to it. The seats in front were relatively normal, but the trunk had been transformed into this make-shift kitchen area. "Everything you need to go camping," someone said.
We continued rummaging around and I found this beautiful, hand-bound journal. I've always wanted one with pressed pages, where you can still see the splinters of the unrefined wood. There is something so natural about it.
Interpertation:
To see a kitchen in your dream, signifies your need for warmth and spiritual nourishment.
To see or drive a station wagon in your dream, refers to your family and issues surrounding your family.
To see books in your dream, indicates calmness. You are moving toward your goals at a slow and steady pace. Books also symbolize knowledge, intellect, information and wisdom. Consider the type of book for additional clues. The dream may represent your calling into a specific field of work or an area that you need to devote more study to.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Deadly Plants and Curious Cats
It makes me so angry that neither of my vets asked me, "Hey, so you're a new pet owner? Okay, cool - and you just adopted? Sweet, and ever since then, he's been vomiting, which he didn't used to do before? Okay, well, do you have any of these house plants?"
Why don't they ask? These plants are insanely common and a lot of people probably have them either in their home or outside in their yard. I didn't know this, and I had cats growing up my whole life. This isn't as common knowledge as it should be, especially when you ask your mother for advice with your cat and all she says is "You shouldn't have adopted someone else's problem" referring to how old my cat is, blaming his sickness on his age. She has even been to my house and seen the stupid house plant I have - the only one I decided to buy.
Frankly, I'm a little enraged by this. I mean, I try to do right by my pet. In the last 6 months or so, he's gone to two vets, had all the blood work done for cancer, changed diets due to
recommendations I don't know how many times, about 500 dollars spent on him with just medical bills alone... and no one asked, "Oh, he chews on grass outside? Do you have any plants indoors? Or any of the following anywhere?"
Ugh. I am so glad that FixNation posted this on their twitter. All this time, it could have just been the plant. Maybe it's a mixture of diet and plant eating, but I hope that once I through the sucker out, my cat will be better, once and for all.
Why don't they ask? These plants are insanely common and a lot of people probably have them either in their home or outside in their yard. I didn't know this, and I had cats growing up my whole life. This isn't as common knowledge as it should be, especially when you ask your mother for advice with your cat and all she says is "You shouldn't have adopted someone else's problem" referring to how old my cat is, blaming his sickness on his age. She has even been to my house and seen the stupid house plant I have - the only one I decided to buy.
Frankly, I'm a little enraged by this. I mean, I try to do right by my pet. In the last 6 months or so, he's gone to two vets, had all the blood work done for cancer, changed diets due to
recommendations I don't know how many times, about 500 dollars spent on him with just medical bills alone... and no one asked, "Oh, he chews on grass outside? Do you have any plants indoors? Or any of the following anywhere?"Ugh. I am so glad that FixNation posted this on their twitter. All this time, it could have just been the plant. Maybe it's a mixture of diet and plant eating, but I hope that once I through the sucker out, my cat will be better, once and for all.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Music and Writing
I haven't written anything in a really long time. Not only is it frustrating, but it's also somewhat disheartening. I feel like since I can't even write a silly blog, or can't even tweet, or can't even keep up my promise to write three pages of journal entries a day to myself - how am I ever going to finish my novel? Something I used to do while writing, particularly the story with Anthony, was listen to hardcore music. Listen to something angry, something angsty... And recently, I just haven't been in the mood to listen to really horrible singers screaming through a microphone while a bass drum is being hit with a dual kicker in the background...
I've been listening to things that make me mellow, things that trip me out. Things that make me zone. Which, hey, that would be great if I was working on Jessica's story. Or that would be great if I was even working on Sophie's - though her music is much more classical and orchestral - but I'm not. My focus is on Anthony. And maybe it shouldn't be. Maybe I'm just not angry enough to write his angsty growing up story anymore. I mean... I wish I had finished it when I was still having all of those emotions. Suffering from insurmountable loneliness, home-sickness, and just this deep pit of seemingly endless despair. But I'm happy now. Is it possible for me to write emotions while being happy? Everything that comes out just seems trite and annoying. Like someone that is trying to connect with their character but just can't. Is it as simple as listening to hardcore music again? Would that put me back in touch with my character on a non-superficial level? I understand his flirtatiousness, I understand his sarcasm - that much I got from myself... But what about the burning hatred, the frustration over being in love, the insane amount of paranoia that comes with being who he is... And really the egotistical side of him, though I can relate a little bit, I just do not have that fake sense of self-confidence that he convinces everyone, even himself, that he has.
I understand who you are so well, my dear character - but I don't understand what you are feeling anymore. I don't suffer with you anymore. How can I write sincerely if I don't feel an emotional connection?
I've been listening to things that make me mellow, things that trip me out. Things that make me zone. Which, hey, that would be great if I was working on Jessica's story. Or that would be great if I was even working on Sophie's - though her music is much more classical and orchestral - but I'm not. My focus is on Anthony. And maybe it shouldn't be. Maybe I'm just not angry enough to write his angsty growing up story anymore. I mean... I wish I had finished it when I was still having all of those emotions. Suffering from insurmountable loneliness, home-sickness, and just this deep pit of seemingly endless despair. But I'm happy now. Is it possible for me to write emotions while being happy? Everything that comes out just seems trite and annoying. Like someone that is trying to connect with their character but just can't. Is it as simple as listening to hardcore music again? Would that put me back in touch with my character on a non-superficial level? I understand his flirtatiousness, I understand his sarcasm - that much I got from myself... But what about the burning hatred, the frustration over being in love, the insane amount of paranoia that comes with being who he is... And really the egotistical side of him, though I can relate a little bit, I just do not have that fake sense of self-confidence that he convinces everyone, even himself, that he has.
I understand who you are so well, my dear character - but I don't understand what you are feeling anymore. I don't suffer with you anymore. How can I write sincerely if I don't feel an emotional connection?
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Office Moving, Vet Appt. And a Very Scared Cat
Came to work today with my cat sitting in my lap in the car. He was freaking out the whole time, as cats do, waiting for the moment that he could get out of the car. I can't leave him in the carrier because he attacks the bars of the carrier so violently, I worry that he will hurt himself.
The Vet appointment is at 4:30pm. I should have made it earlier to get out of work sooner, but me being the person that I am - I did the latest appointment possible. I thought that I'd have more work to be done today. But alas, here I am with nothing, absolutely nothing to do.
My cat has taken refuge from the movers (a bunch of people are moving their offices around) under a co-workers desk and refuses to come out.
Before the movers got here, he was calmly curled up on his bed and stared out the 8th story window at everything below.
I wish I could let him know that everything is going to be okay.
Office Cat
The Vet appointment is at 4:30pm. I should have made it earlier to get out of work sooner, but me being the person that I am - I did the latest appointment possible. I thought that I'd have more work to be done today. But alas, here I am with nothing, absolutely nothing to do.
My cat has taken refuge from the movers (a bunch of people are moving their offices around) under a co-workers desk and refuses to come out.
Before the movers got here, he was calmly curled up on his bed and stared out the 8th story window at everything below.
I wish I could let him know that everything is going to be okay.
Office Cat
Monday, May 3, 2010
The Benefit of the Doubt: As a Hostess
My host job does not just consist of standing at the door and looking pretty. I know some restaurants are like that - but a whole bunch of them actually have a lot of side work to do.
My job, for instance, had this list:
1. Greet customers at the door, and seat
2. Clean the windows every time they get dirty (glass doors, happened a lot)
3. Answer Phones
4. Put together To Go Orders
5. Perform a Restroom Check - if things are dirty, out of stock, fix it!
6. Pre-Bus Tables - take whatever customers are done with and bring it to the dish room
7. Bus Tables - (Especially if there is no busser)
8. Wipe tables and Reset - (Always supposed to be host job, unless the busser helps)
9. Turn on/off heat lamps for customers sitting outside
10. Refill water and help any servers that are behind
11. Run food if you need to
This is in order of priority (mostly). There is a constant list going on in a host's head with what they need to do. When a customer asks a host/hostess or a busser for help - that list gets torn to shreds. We might as well just allow the customer to hack it into little bits with an ax, because now - instead of answering the door, I have to run and grab a refill for you. We have servers for a reason - they are your servers. They are supposed to help with everything you need. Now, if your server is busy, and the restaurant has filled, then you can grab someone. But if there aren't many people, try - try to get ahold of your server.
One day, it was so slow, our busser was sent home. It started to pick up shortly after he left, but nothing I couldn't handle by myself. A mass exodus happened, and suddenly, there was about 7 tables to bus and clean. Slowly, I start to catch up. I bus the three tables outside, the two in the corner, then finally the ones near the front of the restaurant. Now, servers are supposed to help with bussing, but they were caught up doing their own, equally long, to-do list.
I have a tray of dirty dishes in my hands, clearly in a hurry. I get pulled aside by a customer. She asks me a question I don't know the answer to. I tell her politely that she should ask her server, that he should be by shortly to check on them. I bring the dishes to the back, grab a rag to clean down all the tables that I just bussed and mid-wipe, she makes the "ahem" coughing sound that so many people in the service business hate. Just say excuse me, there's no reason to be rude. I know you are trying to get my attention either way.
I look up from the table right next to theirs and say, "Yes?"
She looks at me like I'm the stupidest person that she knows, "Well, did you ask?" I wanted to roll my eyes. It had been less than a minute and obviously, their server hadn't come back. Even though I told her to ask her server, she assumed I was going to find the answer for her. Sorry, I was too busy carrying 15 pounds of dirty dishes above my shoulder.
So, I sigh, probably a little too loudly, and place down my rag, probably a little too forcefully. I walk past her, march up to a server and ask them the simple question. I get back to her table, put a smile on my face, pretend to be in love with the woman and tell her the answer. I ask if there was anything else I could do for her, not in the spitting, angry way, just in a non-committal way.
I start to walk away after she says she's okay, and she stops me again. I have my rag back in my hand and was going back to scrubbing the table. "Are you okay?" She says it in a snotty way, she clearly doesn't care if I'm having the worst day of my life, she just wants to make me feel worse about my day.
"What?"
"Are you okay? Like, is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"
I cock an eyebrow. "Ma'am," she has her two kids and husband with her, "I'm just trying to do my job." And I went back to wiping down tables. Her server came and checked on her within the next minute.
Now, I understand, giving her the benefit of the doubt that she probably heard, "I'll go ask your server" instead of what I really said, "You should." So, she probably was expecting an answer, which, after being asked again in a rude way, I gave it to her as nicely as I could at the time.
So why not give me the benefit of the doubt? Instead of rubbing my nose in the fact that I'm clearly not having a great day. Instead of flicking me with your finger one more time, why not just assume that I'll be okay. That maybe you were a little too forceful. Don't be even ruder to make up for a past rudeness.
Now, once as a barista, a co-worker of mine had to walk away from a customer because she was being "awful" to him. When he walked away, she said to me, "I didn't realize that I was being that harsh or forceful... I didn't think I was..." I had to apologize for him, since he was having a bad day. She understood, and I understood how upset she was that someone had walked away from her. She gave him the benefit of the doubt (even though he was always like that - it wasn't just that day, it was always), but she assumed he was a nice guy, she just struck a bad chord.
So, can't we all assume that? Maybe the other person is having an off day. Maybe they are in the same situation you'll find yourself in a few days later.
Just don't treat people like they are idiots for not knowing the answer to a question. Don't treat them worse when they are upset with you.
This series is to be continued with my experience with Sears Customer Service... I'll be on the other side - as a customer, unhappy with the results.
My job, for instance, had this list:
1. Greet customers at the door, and seat
2. Clean the windows every time they get dirty (glass doors, happened a lot)
3. Answer Phones
4. Put together To Go Orders
5. Perform a Restroom Check - if things are dirty, out of stock, fix it!
6. Pre-Bus Tables - take whatever customers are done with and bring it to the dish room
7. Bus Tables - (Especially if there is no busser)
8. Wipe tables and Reset - (Always supposed to be host job, unless the busser helps)
9. Turn on/off heat lamps for customers sitting outside
10. Refill water and help any servers that are behind
11. Run food if you need to
This is in order of priority (mostly). There is a constant list going on in a host's head with what they need to do. When a customer asks a host/hostess or a busser for help - that list gets torn to shreds. We might as well just allow the customer to hack it into little bits with an ax, because now - instead of answering the door, I have to run and grab a refill for you. We have servers for a reason - they are your servers. They are supposed to help with everything you need. Now, if your server is busy, and the restaurant has filled, then you can grab someone. But if there aren't many people, try - try to get ahold of your server.
One day, it was so slow, our busser was sent home. It started to pick up shortly after he left, but nothing I couldn't handle by myself. A mass exodus happened, and suddenly, there was about 7 tables to bus and clean. Slowly, I start to catch up. I bus the three tables outside, the two in the corner, then finally the ones near the front of the restaurant. Now, servers are supposed to help with bussing, but they were caught up doing their own, equally long, to-do list.
I have a tray of dirty dishes in my hands, clearly in a hurry. I get pulled aside by a customer. She asks me a question I don't know the answer to. I tell her politely that she should ask her server, that he should be by shortly to check on them. I bring the dishes to the back, grab a rag to clean down all the tables that I just bussed and mid-wipe, she makes the "ahem" coughing sound that so many people in the service business hate. Just say excuse me, there's no reason to be rude. I know you are trying to get my attention either way.
I look up from the table right next to theirs and say, "Yes?"
She looks at me like I'm the stupidest person that she knows, "Well, did you ask?" I wanted to roll my eyes. It had been less than a minute and obviously, their server hadn't come back. Even though I told her to ask her server, she assumed I was going to find the answer for her. Sorry, I was too busy carrying 15 pounds of dirty dishes above my shoulder.
So, I sigh, probably a little too loudly, and place down my rag, probably a little too forcefully. I walk past her, march up to a server and ask them the simple question. I get back to her table, put a smile on my face, pretend to be in love with the woman and tell her the answer. I ask if there was anything else I could do for her, not in the spitting, angry way, just in a non-committal way.
I start to walk away after she says she's okay, and she stops me again. I have my rag back in my hand and was going back to scrubbing the table. "Are you okay?" She says it in a snotty way, she clearly doesn't care if I'm having the worst day of my life, she just wants to make me feel worse about my day.
"What?"
"Are you okay? Like, is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"
I cock an eyebrow. "Ma'am," she has her two kids and husband with her, "I'm just trying to do my job." And I went back to wiping down tables. Her server came and checked on her within the next minute.
Now, I understand, giving her the benefit of the doubt that she probably heard, "I'll go ask your server" instead of what I really said, "You should." So, she probably was expecting an answer, which, after being asked again in a rude way, I gave it to her as nicely as I could at the time.
So why not give me the benefit of the doubt? Instead of rubbing my nose in the fact that I'm clearly not having a great day. Instead of flicking me with your finger one more time, why not just assume that I'll be okay. That maybe you were a little too forceful. Don't be even ruder to make up for a past rudeness.
Now, once as a barista, a co-worker of mine had to walk away from a customer because she was being "awful" to him. When he walked away, she said to me, "I didn't realize that I was being that harsh or forceful... I didn't think I was..." I had to apologize for him, since he was having a bad day. She understood, and I understood how upset she was that someone had walked away from her. She gave him the benefit of the doubt (even though he was always like that - it wasn't just that day, it was always), but she assumed he was a nice guy, she just struck a bad chord.
So, can't we all assume that? Maybe the other person is having an off day. Maybe they are in the same situation you'll find yourself in a few days later.
Just don't treat people like they are idiots for not knowing the answer to a question. Don't treat them worse when they are upset with you.
This series is to be continued with my experience with Sears Customer Service... I'll be on the other side - as a customer, unhappy with the results.
The Benefit of the Doubt: As a Barista
I have always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Okay, they were a horrible, awful human being that looked down at me... Maybe their cat just died. Maybe some drunk driver ran into their car last night and they had to take a bus ride to get here where the person that sat next to them smelled like old diapers. I don't know, whatever it is, I always try to reason with myself, with their mood and say "Maybe they are just having a horrible day."
But then I stand there and begin to wonder, Does this person know what we are going to say about them as soon as their gone?
I know that some people "just don't care what others think." But do you want to be the person that someone complains about for the rest of the day.
Man, my day was great, but that woman... What a horrible person.
So, what if the barista is already having a bad day? It's a hot, sweaty Saturday during summer vacation. The cafe is packed with tourists, people that don't speak english, teenagers that are hard to please, and grumpy people from standing in such a long line. Now, I understand, waiting for 10 minutes to order coffee sucks, but how do you think the barista feels?
The entire time you are standing in line, they stare at the line, wondering if it will ever stop. Wondering if they have time to go to the bathroom so they won't get another UTI from waiting as long as they did last time. Yes, it happens. Because people lack patience. And I'm guilty of it too. I stand there with my arms cross, looking annoyed. Sighing whenever the person behind the counter messes something up and it takes me longer to get a drink.
But here's the deal: Most of the time, it's not the barista's fault. "Oh, I told them Decaf" No, you didn't. You forgot - why? Probably because you drink decaf coffee. Maybe you should have the caffiene to wake up a little bit.
"I said no whip cream." Well, I'm sorry, that's not what your cup says. But I remain nice, I ask politely if I could just scoop it off the top. "No, remake." Because, well, this person probably only speaks coffee english and nothing else.
So, bad day, long lines, suffering from probably what will become a bladder infection, and this woman comes up to the counter. I'm making drinks and I can hear her being very specific. It's a green tea frappicino, probably the most annoying drink to make at Starbucks. In a tall: first line of whole milk, 2 scoops matcha powder, tall ice, 2 pumps of creme frappicino, 2 pumps of classic. The longest list of ingredients we have, and thus, the longest to make.
So this woman is waiting, getting more visably annoyed as I work on about 5 drinks at once. I put the drink down with whipped cream on top. She says she doesn't want the whip, I ask to take it off, she says no, it's gross, she doesn't want any of it. It's not my fault - maybe not even her fault - but she treats me like an idiot. Her cup said "WC" whipped cream. So, that's what I did. "Also," she adds, "Can I have some extra ice?"
Great. So I go, remake it, extra ice. She gets it, drinks a little and gives me a sour look. I make a few more drinks. She puts the cup down, "There's not enough ice in this."
"Okay, could I re-blend it with more ice then?"
"No, remake it, please." She spits out the please as if she has a rotten taste in her mouth.
Okay, this woman probably just had a really horrible day, right? She is probably just frustrated and wants her green tea frappicino perfect. So I pour another one down the drain. I start to remake it again, adding a ton of extra ice. She stops me, "Excuse me - ma'am -" Now, I'm not a ma'am. I'm a miss. I've never been married, I'm only 23, there is nothing that says it's okay for someone older than me to call me ma'am, as if talking to someone their parent's age.
"Can you add four more ice cubes." I grind my teeth.
The benefit of the doubt, at this point, is off. She pushed too far and too much at this point. I had a line out the door, ten or so drinks that needed to be made, but because she chose to complain, I had to spend my energy on her. Meanwhile, everyone else is getting just as annoyed at her, at me, at the whole staff. I turn around, ready to tell her exactly what I think about her, and my supervisor tells me to go grab a drink of water.
Now that my blood pressure is way too high, I agree with him. Suddenly, water and a bathroom break seem like heaven.
We all have breaking points, things that piss us off. And I just don't see why you would want to take it out on someone that could spit in your drink.
Why don't we get the benefit of the doubt?
Reasons you shouldn't blame your barista:
1. Another member of the team could have heard your drink order incorrectly.
2. We always ask if you want whip cream, if you say yes, it's your own fault.
3. You should watch the sale as it's being rung in. You see "frappicino" and don't question it when you wants a latte over ice - it's your fault.
4. Frappicino and Cappicino sound VERY similar - you try working with tons of tourists with accents that you are unfamiliar with and never get those two mixed up.
5. We try. We don't go to work saying "MWAHAHAH, I'm going to make ALL THEIR DRINKS WRONG! WRONG, I SAY, WRONG!" We go to work, get paid almost minimun wage, almost never get tipped, and you want us to be happy? We will try to get your order right, we will try to make you believe that we are happy - but trust me, earning 200 dollars a week is not something that anyone wants to "be happy" about.
6. Almost no one tips baristas. If you did, we'd be much happier to see you.
7. Becoming a nice regular customer is a good thing. We'll talk to you, treat you nicely, ask about your day. We can be great friends if you let us be - mostly people just want their 10oz. of fuel for the day, but hey, we have lives too.
My suggestion if you are a barista: Try to get a job as a hostess or somewhere in the restuarant business. I made just as much in one weekend hostessing as I did in a week of being a barista. Also, becoming a server, especially in a large city, can make loads of cash.
But then I stand there and begin to wonder, Does this person know what we are going to say about them as soon as their gone?
I know that some people "just don't care what others think." But do you want to be the person that someone complains about for the rest of the day.
Man, my day was great, but that woman... What a horrible person.
So, what if the barista is already having a bad day? It's a hot, sweaty Saturday during summer vacation. The cafe is packed with tourists, people that don't speak english, teenagers that are hard to please, and grumpy people from standing in such a long line. Now, I understand, waiting for 10 minutes to order coffee sucks, but how do you think the barista feels?
The entire time you are standing in line, they stare at the line, wondering if it will ever stop. Wondering if they have time to go to the bathroom so they won't get another UTI from waiting as long as they did last time. Yes, it happens. Because people lack patience. And I'm guilty of it too. I stand there with my arms cross, looking annoyed. Sighing whenever the person behind the counter messes something up and it takes me longer to get a drink.
But here's the deal: Most of the time, it's not the barista's fault. "Oh, I told them Decaf" No, you didn't. You forgot - why? Probably because you drink decaf coffee. Maybe you should have the caffiene to wake up a little bit.
"I said no whip cream." Well, I'm sorry, that's not what your cup says. But I remain nice, I ask politely if I could just scoop it off the top. "No, remake." Because, well, this person probably only speaks coffee english and nothing else.
So, bad day, long lines, suffering from probably what will become a bladder infection, and this woman comes up to the counter. I'm making drinks and I can hear her being very specific. It's a green tea frappicino, probably the most annoying drink to make at Starbucks. In a tall: first line of whole milk, 2 scoops matcha powder, tall ice, 2 pumps of creme frappicino, 2 pumps of classic. The longest list of ingredients we have, and thus, the longest to make.
So this woman is waiting, getting more visably annoyed as I work on about 5 drinks at once. I put the drink down with whipped cream on top. She says she doesn't want the whip, I ask to take it off, she says no, it's gross, she doesn't want any of it. It's not my fault - maybe not even her fault - but she treats me like an idiot. Her cup said "WC" whipped cream. So, that's what I did. "Also," she adds, "Can I have some extra ice?"
Great. So I go, remake it, extra ice. She gets it, drinks a little and gives me a sour look. I make a few more drinks. She puts the cup down, "There's not enough ice in this."
"Okay, could I re-blend it with more ice then?"
"No, remake it, please." She spits out the please as if she has a rotten taste in her mouth.
Okay, this woman probably just had a really horrible day, right? She is probably just frustrated and wants her green tea frappicino perfect. So I pour another one down the drain. I start to remake it again, adding a ton of extra ice. She stops me, "Excuse me - ma'am -" Now, I'm not a ma'am. I'm a miss. I've never been married, I'm only 23, there is nothing that says it's okay for someone older than me to call me ma'am, as if talking to someone their parent's age.
"Can you add four more ice cubes." I grind my teeth.
The benefit of the doubt, at this point, is off. She pushed too far and too much at this point. I had a line out the door, ten or so drinks that needed to be made, but because she chose to complain, I had to spend my energy on her. Meanwhile, everyone else is getting just as annoyed at her, at me, at the whole staff. I turn around, ready to tell her exactly what I think about her, and my supervisor tells me to go grab a drink of water.
Now that my blood pressure is way too high, I agree with him. Suddenly, water and a bathroom break seem like heaven.
We all have breaking points, things that piss us off. And I just don't see why you would want to take it out on someone that could spit in your drink.
Why don't we get the benefit of the doubt?
Reasons you shouldn't blame your barista:
1. Another member of the team could have heard your drink order incorrectly.
2. We always ask if you want whip cream, if you say yes, it's your own fault.
3. You should watch the sale as it's being rung in. You see "frappicino" and don't question it when you wants a latte over ice - it's your fault.
4. Frappicino and Cappicino sound VERY similar - you try working with tons of tourists with accents that you are unfamiliar with and never get those two mixed up.
5. We try. We don't go to work saying "MWAHAHAH, I'm going to make ALL THEIR DRINKS WRONG! WRONG, I SAY, WRONG!" We go to work, get paid almost minimun wage, almost never get tipped, and you want us to be happy? We will try to get your order right, we will try to make you believe that we are happy - but trust me, earning 200 dollars a week is not something that anyone wants to "be happy" about.
6. Almost no one tips baristas. If you did, we'd be much happier to see you.
7. Becoming a nice regular customer is a good thing. We'll talk to you, treat you nicely, ask about your day. We can be great friends if you let us be - mostly people just want their 10oz. of fuel for the day, but hey, we have lives too.
My suggestion if you are a barista: Try to get a job as a hostess or somewhere in the restuarant business. I made just as much in one weekend hostessing as I did in a week of being a barista. Also, becoming a server, especially in a large city, can make loads of cash.
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