Starbucks.

Okay, you got me.
Sometimes, when nat and i aren't feeling well enough to venture westward toward the beach, where all the smaller coffee shops are, we head downstairs to the f*%@$!#! Starbucks in the shopping area behind our building. Yes, i disgust myself. But who doesn't disgust themselves sometimes?
I try and remember to bring my own cup, and the kids who work there are all so dang nice to us and everything; it's not entirely bad! i refuse to feel guilty about it, basically. i can't be perfect, i just can't.

So last night, nat needed to get out of the apartment for a little while as he frantically worked through the last few pages of a paper which he is not very proud of (the class was not great and he ran out of time to write the damned thing). with my uterus feeling as though it was being wrung out like a washcloth (sorry, but it's true), i felt like i needed some hot chocolate, and wasn't willing to travel far to get it. We headed downstairs.
My favorite tiny, bitter older lady (we'll call her "Gail") was working the counter, partnered with the tall young gent who always hears nat's name as "Matt", no matter how hard we try and enunciate it. Gail is great, because once i overheard her co-workers talking a little smack about her, and it went something like this:

#1: "Gail is so weird; the other night some customers came in like 2 minutes before we closed, and she got all pissed off about it."
#2: "I know! It's like, 'Gail, that's what your job is- helping customers. If you don't like it, you shouldn't be working here!'"
#1: "Exactly. The sign says we close at 9:00, not 8:58."
#2 and #1: (laughter)

Now, i know this might come as a shock to some of you out there, particularly the ones who desire the Golden Goose, but i am on Gloria's side here. I guess what i mean is: there should be something like a 2 or 3-minute buffer zone at the end of the day, where people (excuse me, consumers) can just chill out a little, and not rush to whatever still-open establishment they see before them in order to get that actually-not-so-important cookie or Frappuccino or whatever, so that the people who have been working hard all day to serve them can relax at the end of the day instead of getting anxious. I loathe the last-minute shopping frenzy that i can only imagine goes on in droves around the world as shops everywhere begin to close their doors for the evening. And i only say this because, having been on both sides of the matter at hand, i can honestly say that i have raced to a store on more than a few occasions and had the door be just locked, or the sign flipping over to "Cerrado" right in my face, and honestly- it wasn't that bad! i lived through it, don't ya know.
But when i was behind a counter at the bakery, watching the clock in those few long minutes before closing time, wiping counters or floors furiously, dusting jars, organizing the pens at the register, and crossing my fingers in the hope hope HOPE that no one would come in so that i could just get home without incident, nothing was more heart-sickening than when you saw the expectant face of that person literally running for the front door.

Now, i am one of the more understanding, empathic, sympathetic, bleeding-hearted and even pushover-esque people there are in this world, but this type of behavior would actually enrage me. I could feel my jaw harden, my eyes squint viciously and my blood turn to poison in my veins. When i worked at an outdoor flower shop without doors i could simply say, "sorry, we're closed!" and they would have to deal with it (although more than a few would still hound me- sometimes going as far as grabbing the flowers rudely out of the buckets ANYWAY), but at the bakery we had to have those doors wiiiide open until closing time. And locking the door after that last customer rushes in can go one of two ways:

Scenario A: Person hurries in, looks about sheepishly, points to the loaf of bread they need for dinner while grabbing their wallet and mumbling, "sorry..!" from under their eyelashes. This i can deal with, because for some reason it shows that they are human, and understand. i often will say, "don't worry about it!" or something to that effect. i am glad these people exist; they offer a ray of hope for future generations of shopping masses.

Scenario B: Person saunters in, clasps hands behind their back, wanders over to the cake case, and actually starts fucking whistling. (ok, it doesn't always go down exactly like this, but this has actually happened to me before.) Despite the door being locked pointedly, and the main lights turned off, this looky-loo will inquire innocently, "oh, are you closed?" and when you say, "well, yes" they will just kind of grunt and proceed to ask you mind-numbing questions like, "what kind of flour do you use in this (pointing at the "100% Whole Wheat Bread")?" or "how much are these?" (wow, maybe they cost the 75 cents which the sign prominently declares?) or "how sweet are these cookies?" (oh my fucking god, do we share a tongue??) or "what's in the apricot tarte?" (um, wild guess- apricots!?!), etc. etc.

And again, i know my place in my job. I understand that the customer comes first, but that doesn't mean i have to be happy about it when they are not treating me with a basic level of respect. And it certainly doesn't mean that i should reward the behavior of people who ignorantly act like ass-clowns (sorry, current favorite derogatory term); as if their time is more important than mine (or yours). i have news for those people: it is not. In actuality, we have the power. You see, we have what you want. And if you don't act in the appropriate manner, you won't be receiving those items. That's kind of how it works. And yes, your money pays my paycheck, blah blah blah- but what you fail to understand is that there are many many more people out there in the world besides yourself, people a lot like you, actually, who also have two feet and a wallet, but with one important difference: a good attitude! And say that you decide to "take your business elsewhere"- wow, how long did it take you to come up with that genius solution? Because i could have suggested that to you months ago. So, glad we're on the same page here. Should make things run a whole lot more smoothly for everyone involved.

Whoa... ::shakes head groggily:: ...what happened? Where was i? Oh, yeah- Gail. She's great :) Hard worker and all that. Doesn't feel like she was put on the earth to take crap from people, i guess. Apparently people like us just aren't cut out for customer-service jobs, but i like to think that when we find ourselves in those types of positions, we use it to the world's best interest. I've called more than a few customers out on their behavior, subtly and sometimes not-so-subtly. Because sometimes i honestly feel that if we don't, then who will? Obviously they've got this far in life without ever being taught proper manners, and that is because everyone has coddled them and been too afraid to show them how it feels to be treated with the same (lack of) manners that they are so generously dishing out! The cycle must be stopped.

Whew. Sorry. You all didn't sign up for this, did you? Guess i just needed to rant, yet again! Nobody could have guessed that that's what this blog would turn into. Oh wait, yes i could have.... :/ ::gulp!::

Long story short (ha, ha too late): i asked if it was possible to get a "mint hot chocolate" and the guy said "sure- one venti hot chocolate, comin' up!" and grabbed the monstrously-sized cup. There was some confusion, or flustered-ness happening behind the counter, or something, so i piped up over the noise, "no- not a big one, just a small hot chocolate, with a shot of mint in it?" and then Gail rang me up, "oh sure, honey- one venti hot chocolate, with a shot of peppermint."

Argh.

If we could just call the sizes what they are: small, medium, and large, this would never have to happen. Really, it wouldn't. And i wouldn't have to swallow my protests because i'm too fucking timid and scared to rock the boat, and afraid to waste anything, so i drank half of the Beast (i think it had at least ten pumps of chocolate) and took the rest home to cut with my morning coffee. Which actually turned out quite delicious, thank you very much!

The end, with apologies for lengthy ramblingness.