My two cents.

Dear customers -

You just spent what I make in an hour on a cup of coffee.  You come into my store every day, sometimes twice a day, and you know exactly how much that beverage costs.  Somehow, you don't seem to have figured out that the container sitting on the counter is our tip jar.  If you don't want to tip us, that's fine - you aren't required to do so.  It's your prerogative.   But for fuck's sake, stop using the tip jar as your own personal "Take a Penny" dish.  If you're short by a couple of cents on occasion, I understand.  It happens to the best of us, and in that situation, it really isn't a big deal.  But every single fucking day?  We're all fucking sick of it.  Just for that, I'm Crazy Gluing a penny to the floor, for the sole purpose of watching you try in vain to retrieve it.  Don't be a dick.

Signed,
Your disgruntled, depressingly underpaid barista.

Cell phones and soccer moms - the newest Horsemen of the Apocalypse?

Dear customers -

For the love of all that's holy, get off your fucking cell phones when you come in to order drinks.  It's fucking common courtesy.  If I ask for your drink order while you're on the phone, it's because I need to take your order, not because I want to interrupt your conversation.  Don't "shush" me, and don't get all bitchy about it.  If it were up to me, I would just skip over you and move on to the next customer - one who has the decency to put their phone away while ordering drinks.

The same goes for those of you who get mad at me for interrupting your conversations with your bimbo soccer mom friends standing in line with you.  No one gives a fuck about your hair appointment, your PTA meeting, or your Pap smear.  Order your fucking drink already.

Finally, if I ask you to repeat your drink order, it's because I can't hear you.  Chances are, this has something to do with the customers who are talking on their cell phones, and the ones standing in line chatting with their asshole friends.  It may also have to do with the fact that there are coffee grinders and steam wands running at any given time.  It gets a bit loud in here.  If I ask for your order a second time, please say it louder, not slower.  I'm not an idiot.  I just can't fucking hear your.  Shut the fuck up and pay attention, instead of constantly being wrapped up in your own pathetic lives.

Signed,
Your disgruntled(and potentially hearing-impaired) barista.

P.S - Seriously, go fuck yourselves.

Did your mother teach you nothing?

Dear customers -

If you make a mess, hiding it under a napkin is not the same as cleaning it up.  You can handle throwing away your empty Sweet and Low packets.  See the hole in the middle of the condiment bar?  That's where the garbage lives...right next to what you decided was a more appropriate spot to leave your trash.

Signed,
Your disgruntled barista.

Today's PSA for birth control - Bad seeds and coffee beans.

Dear customers -

No, we do not think it's cute when you allow your two-year-old to run behind the counter.  This presents a safety hazard to everyone involved, and none of us is in the mood for a lawsuit today.  We really don't think it's cute when your child begins pulling bottles out of the refrigerated case - or better yet, products from the retail display - and breaking them.  You will have to pay for the damaged items, and will probably receive a number of dirty looks while we clean up after your precious angel.  Considering that you haven't so much as looked at the little fucker since you came in 45 minutes ago, that money would have been better spent on birth control.

Signed,
Your disgruntled barista - not your fucking babysitter. 

Karma's a bitch, and a frigid one at that.

Dear Customers -

There's almost six inches of fresh snow outside.  If you're wearing boots with four inch stiletto heels in this weather, there's a good chance of falling in the parking lot.  Don't come whining to me because you have absolutely no fucking common sense.  It was your decision to wear impractical shoes in the fucking snow.  Like I've always said, stupidity should be painful.  We all see that you're trying to be sexy.  Good job.  Have fun being sexy in traction.

Signed,
The disgruntled barista who is currently laughing her ass off at you.

Let it snow...just keep it to yourself.

Dear Customers -

Yes, I'm well aware that it's supposed to snow.  You really don't need to keep reminding everyone.  Yes, unless the Governor declares a state of emergency, we will be open tomorrow, just like every other time it snows.  It doesn't matter how dangerous the roads may be - we know just how badly you need your lattes, and will be here to provide them.  We really don't need to hear your stories of how you braved the elements to get here.  They're all pretty much the same.  We had to do it, too, only we didn't get to go sit in the comfy chairs and drink hot chocolate and ignore the screaming children running around the cafe.  No, we get to deal with you.

Signed,
Your disgruntled(and potentially frostbitten) barista.

P.S. - Last time it snowed, when we got two and a half feet of snow and actually did close for the day, I was elected to swing by the store and post a sign saying we were closed.  In the process of posting this sign, three customers asked if we were open.  Yet, when I slipped in the parking lot that had yet to be plowed, not a single one of them said a word.  I don't ask for much from you, and I sure as hell don't get it.  If it happens again, maybe you should do the decent thing and ask if I'm okay, or better yet, offer to help me up.

The line starts here...not on the toilet paper dispenser.

Dear customers -

Please stop doing lines of coke in the bathroom. When I see three teenage boys heading into the single occupant bathroom at the same time, I know it's either for blow or blowjobs. You're emo kids - neither would surprise me. In any event, you're not as slick as you think you are.

Signed,
Your disgruntled(but not oblivious) barista.

Welcome to my world. We have coffee.

Dear Readers -

I feel a proper introduction is in order. Call me Valentine. You'll probably come to know me better as The Disgruntled Barista. I've spent a good portion of my adult life working in a coffee shop, and with the public in general. In my line of work, there are always stories to tell. These stories will be presented in letter form - all the things I'd love to say to certain customers, but would face certain termination for doing so.

Before we get started, I do want to make clear that I am actually quite fond of the majority of my customers. Some people, however, have the uncanny ability to fuck up one's whole world - at least momentarily - in a matter of seconds. This blog is devoted to these particular customers. Some of these postings will be based on current happenings in my workplace; others are based on my experiences over the years. It's cathartic.

Most of these letters will simply be addressed, "Dear Customers". Occasionally, a letter will show up addressed to a particular person. Real names will not be used. Instead, I will choose a name that suits that particular person. This is for purposes of anonymity, as well as my own amusement.

So, here I am. Rock you like a hurricane.

Signed,
Your Disgruntled Barista.