Wednesday 2 April 2014

B – Barista

Recently I found myself in my local Starbucks coffee house, when an unusual event occurred.  I was merely going through my daily ritual of trying to read people’s laptop screens and comment on their work (you’d be amazed at how many free, unpublished novels you get to read this way), when I heard a commotion behind me.  It seemed that Joe the Barista was getting chewed out by his manager.  I knew Joe pretty well since he’s the guy who throws me out every day for trying to get the display beans from between the cracks in the counter to make my own coffee.  After the argument had died down, I approached Joe and asked him what was going on.

“I hate this job.  The management are demeaning and the customers are ugly”

When I pointed out that in this economic climate, most people would kill for a job like his,  he shouted “Fine!  Make your own coffee!” and handed me his apron.

Since the opportunity had presented itself, I slipped the apron over my head with pride, ready to serve the general populace with their warm beverages.  From now on, I wasn’t merely some pleb from the street trying to steal free coffee and books, I was Joe; renowned barista and frothy drink extraordinaire.

I didn’t actually know anything about coffee or the science of making it, so I found my first few minutes of service rather distressing.  Some floppy-haired manchild asked for a Double-Grande Mocha Latte, which I had no idea how to prepare.  I attempted to operate a machine which looked like Sputnik mating with a bathtub, and came out with a fresh cup of watery foam, which I handed to him hopefully.  He didn’t look particularly pleased, but accepted the drink and walked away.

As I followed the exact procedure for the next three customers, I began to realise that nobody knew anything about coffee.  They would step up and confidently order their convoluted concoctions, I’d pour any old foamy mess into their cup, and they’d willingly pay for the privilege.   I was getting paid to fuck up all day long.  It was a dream job!

What the hell is this thing?

As I churned out another liquid abortion for the next customer, the manager appeared from his office and bellowed across the shop floor.

“Where’s Joe?”

I turned around and raised my hand.  The manager looked at me with a scrutinising stare as though he didn’t recognise me, but the name tag was more than enough to convince him of my employment.  He handed me a mop and bucket and informed me that someone needed to clean the bathroom.  One of our beloved patrons had filled the toilet full of Um Bongo, making the men’s bathroom smell like a mulchy rainforest.  I grabbed my cleaning products and prepared to face the unknown.

Cleaning the toilet took a lot of work.  The liquid was backed up all around the system, and scooping it out would just take hours.  I needed a quick solution to the problem so that I could get back to my rewarding work of filling commuters with steamed froth.  I decided that I would pump the whole lot out, saving time and effort.

I fashioned a rudimentary plumbing system out of old styrofoam cups, and hooked it up to one of the steamer machines.  When I turned the taps, the system sucked the hideous concoction out of the bowl and into a carefully placed bucket.  I stood back and smugly watched my handiwork with glee as the toilet began to unclog itself.

Just then, the suction pipe began to splutter and come to a halt.  I checked the length of the styrofoam pipe and couldn’t find a break or anywhere that the pressure might be released.  Someone on the shop floor must have turned the steamer off.  I ran out of the bathroom to find another employee who’d just started his shift, using the steamer to prepare coffee. A whole shop floor of customers was sipping toilet water, and yet, no one was complaining.  They all seemed rather unfazed by the grim liquid swirling around their cups, as though they hadn’t noticed anything different.

Needless to say, I figured it was time to leave the coffee-making industry before anyone found out.  While I do regret the hundreds of people who ingested toilet water that day, being a Barista was one of the most rewarding jobs I’ve ever had, and I hope to achieve those dizzy heights again in the future.

20 comments:

  1. I don't drink coffee. I think it tastes pretty nasty and you just explained why…people are serving toilet water. I bet Starbucks could save a fortune on coffee beans if they just used your method.

    Elsie
    AJ's wHooligan in the A-Z Challenge

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    1. I don't drink coffee either. I don't find anything about it appealing and I can't understand the fuss. Give me a a refreshing glass of camel's blood any day!

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  2. I am an anti-capitalist investigative journalist and I have been looking for this sort of story for a long time.

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    1. I want to remain anonymous when this goes to press. Not for any safety reasons, I just think anonymous people seem mysterious and cool.

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  3. "Some floppy-haired manchild"<-- I had a good laugh at that. You just described 85% of the men in Bergen County.

    I won't drink Starbucks because I actually like coffee. But I know the one of the guys who works at the Starbucks in my hometown. He has a PhD in art history.

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    1. Wow. I guess Starbucks only takes on the cream of the crop!

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  4. And now I'm thrilled to bits and pieces that I can't stand any kind of coffee. lol

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  5. I don't see anything wrong with what you did. Coffee makes you poo. Wouldn't poo make you poo, too, since it's already been filtered of all nutrients? It'd pass right through you right? What's my obsession with poo about? I must have poo on my brains from the Starbucks I had earlier.

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    1. I don't see a distinction between coffee and poo, in all honesty. They are both liquidy, warm, and an acquired taste.

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  6. Well a good plan well executed, and says much about what the British know about Coffee. I dont drink coffee these days, but Mrs Ghost Writer who does says at least 90% of the time when she orders a coffee that it tastes like S******. At least I will be able to tell her why now, she may not be happy though

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    1. Perhaps it's better not to tell her. Ignorance is bliss.

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  7. "I began to realize that nobody knew anything about coffee"

    As someone that has never liked the taste of coffee, I KNEW IT!!!

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    1. I'm exposing the underground secrets of the coffee industry. You wouldn't believe how they make their brownies.

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  8. Well you might suck at barista-ness, but you might have promise as a plumber, cleaning out toilets.

    Also I would ask you not to make my coffee.

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    1. I could become an official Um Bongo Extraction Engineer. Any other kind of blockages though and you're on your own

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  9. Oh yeah. I've done some barista-ing in my day, and you are right. These fools wil drink anything you damn well give them. As long as you tell them what you want them to think it is, they will think it is that, and drink it down.

    Happy A to Z-ing. See ya 'round the web. All Things Kevyn.

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    1. I figured as much. I don't think anyone fully understands what coffee is. As long as it's brown, warm and frothy, who cares?

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  10. I will think twice before I visit Starbucks again.

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    1. I hope that you'll remember this post every time you see a Starbucks sign.

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