Sunday, January 12, 2014

OK, Now The Barista Hates Me

OK, this place, Caffetto?  I love it, but I've been there enough times where I know the rhythm of the baristas.  Specifically, I know that typically there is only one person there, so if you ask for a drink more elaborate than coffee, you're going to have to wait awhile while he or she makes it.  After a few times waiting I thought it would be a more productive use of my time to boot up my computer, which was in the "Black Screen of Death" phase.  By the time I would have to do that thing where you take out the battery and push the power button down, the barista would be done with my drink, or, more often, I would be back in line while he or she was putting the finishing touches on it, usually putting on the whip cream.

I kind of pushed it to the limit last ... Sunday?  Weekend?  Some time over the weekend, probably Sunday -- and this time I didn't even bring in my own computer.  I was using Mother's new desktop at Caffetto.  And while it has no boot-up issues, I ordered a hot chocolate and a strawberry cheesecake, which meant that I thought I had a lot of time to really get it started -- not just boot up the computer but also to start the web browser, open up the pages I want to see, and even plug in the headphones I remembered to bring.

And then I look up ... and I see the barista, hot chocolate on the counter, waiting for me.  "Oh shit, sorry!" I screamed from the other room, and I give my money in as apologetically a way as possible without saying anything.  And with my hand still outstretched, palm up, trying to imply supplication, the barista just flew by, leaving my change on the counter instead of my hand.

OK, I can understand he was peeved that I made him wait.  But man, he's seen me before.  He knows me.  I've been good to him.  Why he gotta dis me like that?

And what happens if I see him the next time I come into Caffetto?  Is he going to hold it against me the next time I see him?  Does he just hate me now?

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