My experience working in hospitality solidified my opinion that everyone needs to work at least a year serving the public. Either retail or hospitality, I’m not picky, but I do think it should be put into law because the staggering entitlement and rudeness of some people needs to be seen to be believed.
Once you’ve been on the other side of it, you dedicate your life to ensuring you are the model customer and if everyone had this attitude, the world would be a kinder and more efficient place. I worked as a barista for seven years across two cities and in that time I saw it all. Myself and my coworkers were always nothing less than polite and welcoming to all customers — but beneath the surface we were seething, simmering rage machines, biding our time until the disrespectful customers left and we could gossip about them.
There are four things I remember from my long years served behind the coffee machine — and even though I’ve been out of the game for a while, they are still fresh in my mind.
Don’t act like a regular unless you are
Baristas are somewhat like a nervous cat. You need to let them come to you. Do not enter my cafe twice in two months and ask me for ‘the usual.’’ I don’t know who you are, or what you drink and now this is super awkward for both of us — and what’s worse is the burden is on me to lessen the tension.
Instead, if you’re a regular, trust that I will learn your drink and, if you keep it consistent, I will have it waiting for you at the bar if I see you coming down the road. Regular privileges must be bestowed upon you by your barista — you can’t demand them.
Please let me work in peace
Picture the scene. It’s 7am (I have been up since 5am, and you likely have too). You order your coffee at the till, the docket printer sends it to me and I put it up alongside the 25 other coffees I have from the equally exhausted people who got here first. I’m locked in — pulling shots, steaming milk, trying to remember to breathe as I clear as many orders as humanly possible.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see you looking at me from across the room, like a bloke in a seedy pub. You wander over to my side of the café and stare me down as I start to sweat over the milk jug. I put a coffee on the bar and call out, “Flat white for Richard.” You say, “Is that a dry cappuccino for Sandra?” I explode you with my mind.
We judge your drinks
It’s sad, but it’s true. I don’t mean we judge if you want your flat white with soy, or if you prefer a half shot to a full one. But if you order something abjectly ridiculous, believe me — we are judging.
I’m talking about something like a half-shot decaf, half-shot full-caff, dry soy cappuccino. Yeah, I’ll make it for you, but I won’t be happy about it — and I will absolutely tell my coworkers about it. In fact, if you want anything dry, I’m judging you. Grow up.
If you are mean to me I will use the miniscule power I have
There’s a saying that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. I don’t know about that, but I had a little saying of my own when I worked in hospitality and it was BGD or “b**** gets decaf.”
This was reserved only for the most heinous customers, the truly nasty repeat offenders. I never let one mean comment get to me — sometimes people are just having a bad day. But if you are rude to me or my coworkers every single time you come in, then there’s a non-zero chance you’re getting decaf. Or maybe I forgot to put your sugar in? Or maybe I let your espresso shot run a little too long?
None of these things are dangerous, or even noticeable really, but I knew — and it made me feel a little better about being treated like the dirt on your shoe.
