Barbucks

Stories from working at Starbucks that make me want to add a little vodka to my venti.

All the following stories are true. Seriously, I wish I could make these up. However, I can only vouch for mine, and not the submissions. I do not intend offend anyone involved; these are for entertainment purposes only.

Ratings come in tall, grande or venti, or some variation thereof.


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I Hate Working Weekends

But not why you’d think.  People just seem stupider on weekends.  Our weekday regulars know what they want, and WE know what they want, and we have them in and out quickly.  We sometimes even have time for a friendly chat. 

The weekend people don’t want to hear that a Caffe Latte is the same as a Latte, or that a Mochachino is the same as a Mocha, or that Tall = Small.  WE know what they mean, but when we try to explain to them what they will hear when the Barista calls out their drink (so they won’t be waiting 20 minutes, and then annoyed, asked the Barista where their order is), they freak out and yell at us saying that “our language” is too complicated. 

Yes, “our language” is weird.  But by making it consistent, you know exactly what you are getting when you walk into any Starbucks anywhere.  You can’t say that for most coffee shops.

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Notes