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Over the past few years, I haven't really had any stories to post, since my job doesn't let me within cooee of a random Sucky Customer off the street. I deal with Executives and upper level managers who can be, in their own way, just as bad, but I have the expertise in my field to tell them when they're wrong, and for the most part, that is that.
But I just had a sighting that I had to share.
My mother occasionally comes and stays with my wife, daughters and me. Usually, these visits are greeted with enthusiasm on our part (because my mother turns our house from its usual 'lived-in' untidiness into something that resembles a house posing for photos before being put on the market), and squealing excitement on our daughters' parts.
Recently however, her visits have been a bit trying.
Because she has cut her caffine intake. She now allows herself only one coffee a day.
Now, I don't drink coffee. I don't know what the withdrawal symptoms feel like. But I imagine that they're not pleasant.
Today, I decided to treat my mother to a coffee at her favourite local place (not because I'm a good son or anything like that, but because she was getting on my nerves.)
So we're standing in line, patiently waiting our turn. An idjit a few people in front of us orders "I'll have a coffee".
The barrista behind the counter looks as though she's been working since Easter without a break, so just trundles off and puts together some brown liquid in a cup. When he gets his order, he flips out, claiming that he ordered a latte.
My mother, who is normally a sweet woman, buts in and says, "No you didn't."
SC turns around and tells her to shut up.
Things get a little hairy from there. There's no way I could reconstruct the converstion from memory, but 'she's not a mind reader' featured repeatedly. Finally, towards the end of her spiel, the SC managed to get a word in.
Mum - "If you wanted a latte, you should have asked for one. It's not that hard."
SC - "I said shut up."
Mum - (ignoring his response) "You can't expect her to make you one of everything for you to pick from. She made you what you ordered."
SC - "Fuck off, bitch."
It was at this point that I decided that I should do the protective thing and tell him to back off. Mum didn't give me a chance. She let rip one of the most impressive rants I've ever seen. Not even the one when she caught my sixteen-year-old self in a compromising position with our fifteen-year-old Japanese exchange student could compare. She vented around a decade's worth of stress onto this guy who'd just been a bog-standard SC that barristas have to put up with on an hourly basis.
It ended with the SC just saying, "Fuck this, I'm never coming back here," and storming out. The smiles on the faces of the two barristas was like a dual sunrise.
And thus, caffine withdrawal has, in some small way, enriched the lives of the workers at on small coffee shop in suburban Melbourne. A small start, to be sure, but perhaps this force can be directed to destroy suckiness in all its forms.
*sigh*
Nah, not a hope. But damn, I was proud of my Mum today.
But I just had a sighting that I had to share.
My mother occasionally comes and stays with my wife, daughters and me. Usually, these visits are greeted with enthusiasm on our part (because my mother turns our house from its usual 'lived-in' untidiness into something that resembles a house posing for photos before being put on the market), and squealing excitement on our daughters' parts.
Recently however, her visits have been a bit trying.
Because she has cut her caffine intake. She now allows herself only one coffee a day.
Now, I don't drink coffee. I don't know what the withdrawal symptoms feel like. But I imagine that they're not pleasant.
Today, I decided to treat my mother to a coffee at her favourite local place (not because I'm a good son or anything like that, but because she was getting on my nerves.)
So we're standing in line, patiently waiting our turn. An idjit a few people in front of us orders "I'll have a coffee".
The barrista behind the counter looks as though she's been working since Easter without a break, so just trundles off and puts together some brown liquid in a cup. When he gets his order, he flips out, claiming that he ordered a latte.
My mother, who is normally a sweet woman, buts in and says, "No you didn't."
SC turns around and tells her to shut up.
Things get a little hairy from there. There's no way I could reconstruct the converstion from memory, but 'she's not a mind reader' featured repeatedly. Finally, towards the end of her spiel, the SC managed to get a word in.
Mum - "If you wanted a latte, you should have asked for one. It's not that hard."
SC - "I said shut up."
Mum - (ignoring his response) "You can't expect her to make you one of everything for you to pick from. She made you what you ordered."
SC - "Fuck off, bitch."
It was at this point that I decided that I should do the protective thing and tell him to back off. Mum didn't give me a chance. She let rip one of the most impressive rants I've ever seen. Not even the one when she caught my sixteen-year-old self in a compromising position with our fifteen-year-old Japanese exchange student could compare. She vented around a decade's worth of stress onto this guy who'd just been a bog-standard SC that barristas have to put up with on an hourly basis.
It ended with the SC just saying, "Fuck this, I'm never coming back here," and storming out. The smiles on the faces of the two barristas was like a dual sunrise.
And thus, caffine withdrawal has, in some small way, enriched the lives of the workers at on small coffee shop in suburban Melbourne. A small start, to be sure, but perhaps this force can be directed to destroy suckiness in all its forms.
*sigh*
Nah, not a hope. But damn, I was proud of my Mum today.
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