Hell is other people - Listen up Barista Beeach

 

I drink a complicated coffee. 

 

I have an accent.

 

Coffee shops can be busy, noisy places.

 

And so I say my order slowly and clearly.

 

"One Grande Decaf Soy Latte and one Grande Cappuccino, dry, please."

 

Barista Beeach ("BB") takes my order, disappears around to the coffee making area and her colleague walks by her to ring up the order on the till.  

 

"One Soy Latte and One Cappuccino, Grandes," I hear her tell him.

 

She didn't say decaf for mine.  So first I think that maybe the decaf and the normal are the same price and, for someone who is just ringing up the total, decaf is irrelevant information.  Therefore BB has effectively edited her conversation for reasons of efficiency.  I pause and ponder the odds of this being the case.  Hmm..... pretty slim.

 

"Please can you make sure the Soy Latte is decaf?" I ask the nice boy taking my money.

 

He sticks his head round the counter:

 

"The Soy Latte is Decaf..... What?.... Oh, you knew that?  Oh, OK."

 

"She's got it," he says to me.

 

Satisfied, I step around to the coffee collection area. 

 

"Did you say that that Cappuccino was normal?" BB asks me, taking an attitude.  

 

Her voice asks that question but her tone asks this question: "Did you really tell me that the Soy Latte was Decaf?  I don't think you did.  So YOU fracked up, not me."

 

"Yes," I say, between gritted teeth, giving attitude right back.

 

Then, right in front of me, Little Miss Yeah-She's-Got-It yells:

 

"FREE SOY LATTE!  ANYONE WANT A FREE SOY LATTE?"

 

Ah, so you DID frack it up, didn't you dear? I think.  

 

She gives me my two coffees and I stalk out of the store.  

 

Childish, but vindicated.

 

Hell is other people.