Another Saturday night, another chance for me to be Bill Cunningham to myself… The pockets really make this shirt for me. Nothing sticking out, not too boxy; the pockets’ curves attracted me to wearing this short sleeve button down in the middle of winter. I hope it helped brighten up the outlook for some people.
Please allow me this paragraph to blow off some steam. They messed with me at 1369 Coffee House. “They,” the people who work there, and not all of “them,” but some, have been mean in the past. Most days I refuse to go there because I am worried they are going to mess with me, but this Saturday I felt “on point.” So I volunteered to go get everyone coffee in the hall of the lion. There was one person behind me in line, and because I had four drinks to my order, I asked this guy if he would like to go first, telling him I was getting coffee for my coworkers…
After inquiring as to how many caffeinated beverages that entailed, and hearing that it was only four, the man behind me in line said, “Only four? No go right ahead, but that was very nice of you to ask.” Then it was my turn to order. Standing at the register, I told the woman the four drinks, and just as I was finishing the last drink she cut me off. “Next time you should really make a list.” No please, no “hi, how are you?” I turned red and blabbered something about five drinks being the threshold for a list, and she bitingly said, “I’m not worried about YOUR memory, its MY memory I’m worried about.”
For the rest of my life, I will regret not standing up to this lady at the cash register. In my mind, I see myself defiantly throwing it back in her face… “If you are so worried about your memory, then maybe YOU should write down the order!” Honestly, when someone orders food or drinks from me, and its four different drinks, or appetizers, or desserts, or entrees, do I stop them and tell them to simply write it down? No, because as the “order taker,” taking the order is my job. And telling the customer to write it down because my memory is bad, without even saying please, is just rude.
It does feel good to have that rant out of me. No doubt I will be back at 1369 Coffee House, hopefully armed with a quicker wit. Probably, the encounter at the cash register probably got me going more than my four dollar beverage (a red eye) but in the end I should probably remember that coffee just stains my teeth. I hope everyone enjoys their Sunday, and if you come to brunch and have me as your waiter, please remember to bring pencils and paper.
Oh my goodness man! I can’t believe that story and we had just been talking about those kinds of things happening at 1369 too! As you’ve said, it’s about doing a job that you have taken on. And I know how you must feel not having had (yet deserving) the last word, but no doubt she will be heavy w/ a subconscious weight that develops from doing a half-assed job.
Dog Lamb, 1369 is a good place where bad things can happen. I remember going there early one summer morning by bike. Somehow in descending from the bike to the ground I fell off the bike, onto the ground, essentially flat on my face. There were people very close by, eating their muffins and drinking their coffee on the patio. Not one of them asked if I was alright or made any motion to help. I think they were affected by the spiraling swirl of that which is 1369. That which is 1369 requires you to be self-sufficient in this universe, and require from others not even politeness. No, at 1369 the message is that you ride there, take care of your own falls, write down your own order, brew the coffee, wrap up the muffin, and re-board the bike, all by yourself. It’s a self-service kind of place. Where coffee collects for self-reliant chaps like you.
whoa, used to go there everyday though less often since they stopped carrying the last drink I was in a phase with. people there can seem kind of crabby some times, but I have a soft spot for quite a few of them. you don’t think you could message me on facebook and tell me who it was?