You win!

The exact change award!!!

Recently, it's been really freakin' cold around here. You know what I mean. Threats of global warming are disappearing faster than my mittens after the ice storm. One of the coldest days of the year found me working the drive-thru again. Do these people care that I'm standing in front of an open window, specially designed by the guys at NASA so that every minor gust of wind will come straight in and hit me? Do they not know that I'm not allowed to wear anything other than a "Corporate Logo" jacket here, and am unwilling and unable to either wear the over-sized filthy one provided for us, or dig deep and pay for my own, which I would never wear outside the store.

But more importantly, do they understand that keeping me in front of this window, because once you've opened it, there's no going back, keeping me in front of this frigid ice hole while you dig for .89 cents so that you don't have to struggle under the weight of that extra dime and penny in your pocket all day, do you even realize, that this does not make me like you, respect you, or even do more than barely tolerate you for the purpose of my paycheck?

Save your change for people indoors near a heater.

The Princess

Princesses are those annoying "Sex and the City" type chicks who think that Calvin Klein himself designed there bodies, and so they must be perfect in every way. They do NOT make mistakes, and they will usually be the first chicks in the room to use bad grammar. Years of daddy issues and a string of bad boyfriends have left them embittered and sullen, the Princess makes sure that she is always having a bad day, unless she's out with "her girls," and she also ensures that everyone around her is having an equally bad day.

So, I'm working the drive-thru. My least favorite thing in the store to do, but hey, you make good tips, and it isn't too hard. I hear through the intercom this annoying high-pitched voice, that's demanding that everything be made sugar-free, low-fat, just as easy on calories as possible. Oh, and extra whipped cream. Extra whipped cream? What? Can I punch you in the face now?

Of course, I smiled and loaded her up. I hope her ass expands at at least a proportional rate to her trumped up sense of self-importance. Fatty.

Confessions...

So, after a year-long hiatus I found myself plunged back into the world of the bean. Partly financial desperation, partly becuase I just needed someone to talk to everyday, I've again commited myself to waking up at 4:30AM, pretending to really care if one person has to ingest a drink not to their liking, or if 4 extra calories pass through their Botoxed lips. But fortunately, with coffee, I've learned that the best coffee moments, can outweigh a ton of horrid ones....So here I begin, my Confessions of a Bad Barista.