No, you can't phone home...or the nail salon.

Dear customers -

No, you can't use our phone.  That phone is necessary for our business.  It's not an emergency.  You're calling the nail salon across the street, and I can see your cell phone in the holster on your belt.

You have other options, you know.  If your battery died, I understand.  While you were out in the parking lot yammering away on your cell phone, you were standing right next to a pay phone.  Remember those?  Back in the olden days, people would use them to talk to other people.  I'm sure you won't feel as cool using a phone that's attached to a wire instead of your face, but trust me, it works.  

Of course, if you're too cheap to spend the fifty cents to use the pay phone, here's a novel idea for you.  Hear me out on this one.  Maybe...just maybe...you can trot your happy ass across the street to the nail salon.  It's not that far.  I can see it from here.  It's over by the liquor store.


And no, you can't borrow my cell phone.  Stop asking.  I don't even bring it with me half the fucking time.


Signed,
Your disgruntled barista.

I see you rollin'. I'm hatin'.

Dear customers -

Yes, our parking lot is God awful. I've been saying this for years, and I'm fairly confident that it won't get better any time soon.  However, if you want your coffee that badly, it's something you're going to have to deal with.  You might want to try to do so like a civilized human being.

First of all - I can't stress this enough - put down the fucking cell phone.  You know how I feel about those things.  You can't handle talking on the phone and throwing away your garbage at the same time.  How the fuck do you think you can handle talking on the phone while pulling your Escalade into a parking spot?  You can barely see over the steering wheel as it is, and I'm sure the sunglasses that take up half your face don't help matters.

Of course, looking where you're going might help, too.  You don't know how many times some bimbo soccer mom has almost backed over me while I was taking out the garbage, all because she couldn't put the phone down for two seconds to fucking pay attention.

And then, don't fucking honk at me because I'm in your way.  I'm trying to do my job.  All you're doing is trying to set up a "play date"(a term I hate with a passion) for little Dylan or Madison or whatever the hell people call their little bastards nowadays.  Remember - just because you drive a luxury car doesn't entitle you to right of way.  I know it's difficult to comprehend, but if you pulled your head out of your ass once in a while, I'm sure you could figure it out.

Signed,
Your disgruntled barista(who is surprised she hasn't become roadkill yet).

You don't get a free drink because you suck at life.

Dear customers -

I will be more than happy to remake your drink if I made it incorrectly, or if I made the incorrect drink.  I won't give you a free cup of coffee because it's too hot.  It's a freshly brewed pot of coffee, dumbass.  It's supposed to be hot. I'm not making your drink again because you let it sit for 45 minutes.  If I've said it once, I'll say it again - get off your fucking cell phone already.  I sure as hell won't give you a free drink because "the ice cubes are too big".  I don't even know where to begin with that one.  Getting free shit is always a good thing.  I'm not going to deny that.  For fuck's sake, quit abusing the system.

Signed,
Your disgruntled barista(who's seriously sick of your shit).

Thank you for your patience...oh, wait. never mind.

Dear customers -

You see that I'm changing the garbage in the condiment bar.  While I appreciate your efforts, and applaud you for finally figuring out that this is where the garbage lives, there are currently no trash bags in the can, nor is there a trash can in the condiment stand.  As it is, I spend the majority of my life cleaning up after you.  I'm really not in any mood to hose out the garbage can, or spend the next 20 minutes wiping down and sanitizing the condiment stand I just finished cleaning.  Perhaps, if you got off of your fucking cell phone for two seconds and paid attention to your surroundings, this wouldn't be an issue.

Signed,
Your disgruntled, latte-saturated 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.