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Do You Know What a Cappuccino is? Part II

To begin, I will acknowledge that my Batista training is lacking. Starbucks baristas would laugh at the haphazard way I was taught to make hot coffee beverages. However, in spite of this, I think I’ve got a fairly good grasp on what’s what. I’d like to think that I can tell a cappuccino from a latte and can also make them. Having said that, this is my disclaimer on the accuracy of this story. Maybe I was in the wrong.

Commence story:

This woman came in with her small daughter and ordered a cappuccino. I made it up for her, and handed it to her, without a lid. This is important to note. She put a lid on it and headed off with her daughter.

Ten minutes later, she came back and complained that her cup was only half full. I took a look in it. The foam had collapsed, of course. I went to put more milk in it (it’s not really a cappuccino then, but whatever). The lady stopped me, and said, kind of nastily, “Is it OK if I just put more coffee in it, since I doubt there was any to begin with?”

I said yes, but let it be noted that her milk was that brown colour that milk becomes when it is mixed with espresso. I don’t know what kind of milk this woman had been drinking, but she could obviously tell that there was coffee in the milk.

Now, I’ve come up with two reasonable explanations for what this woman was complaining about. One, she put a lid on her full cup herself, took it upstairs, didn’t bother drinking it, then looked inside and was like, where did the milk go! Because she doesn’t understand how foam works. Maybe she wanted a latte and asked for a cappuccino. Either way, she knew the cup was full when she got it because she put the lid on.

The second explanation is that she drank half the cup, and for some reason expected there to be half a cup’s worth of espresso at the bottom. Which isn’t normal. A shot of espresso is exactly that, a shot. When there wasn’t half a cup of espresso, she became enraged enough to return it.

I’m pretty sure this woman had no idea what a cappuccino is. Or was scamming us. Either way, Baristas everywhere, beware!

 

 

 

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Resident Crazy + Breaking a Twenty

This one is short and simple.

Resident Crazy managed to annoy Oliver again. She came in before I was in and wanted to buy a Pepsi.
“That’s a dollar-fifty,” Oliver said.
Resident Crazy handed him a quarter.
Oliver: “What’s this? It costs a dollar-fifty.”
Resident Crazy: “Well, I have a twenty, but I don’t want to break it!”
Oliver is not having it. He’s alone, he’s tired, and Resident Crazy is annoying him. So he takes the Pepsi, puts it back in the cooler, and tells her to go sit down and stop bothering him.
She sits down, but not without much yelling about how Oliver is trying to charge her too much and ripping her off, and for him to stop bugging her.

We all know the pain of having to break a large bill to pay for a small amount, but none of us is crazy enough to try and pay less (over 80% less) for something as a result.
That woman’s mind truly boggles me.

Throwback Sundays: Remember the Time I got a Tomato Face?

I go to the walk-in clinic often. I’m a bit of a hypochondriac, so you could almost call me a regular. Normally, I go with invisible complaints: I’m dizzy, my tendons hurt, my neck feels stiff, etc., and I always get an older female doctor who does a brisk, matter of fact checkup and rapidly dispatches me. Today I woke up with a distinct bright red face rash and naturally, I felt that a doctor should look at my rash, so I went to the clinic. I didn’t bother to put on makeup, or put in my contacts or make sure my scarf matched my coat, bc I had a bright red face rash. And then, the young male doctor they assigned me to was HOT! To recap the situation, I went to the walk-in clinic with my first obvious physical symptom, a Tomato Face, and instead of the usual older lady doctor, I got a painfully attractive young male doctor who was personable and nice! My life is DEFINITELY a cosmic joke.

A Good Friday Sin

This story happens in a bathroom. I’m sorry, that’s just the way it is.
After the Good Friday service, I went to use the washroom. As I entered the bathroom stall, I pulled my gigantic phone out of my tiny coat pocket. The phone was squeezed in so tight that when I pulled it out, a fat loonie popped out too. The loonie clattered LOUDLY to the floor and skidded under the neighbouring stall. It was still visible, but I really didn’t want to reach down and get it, because I felt like that would be a teeny bit awkward for the person in the next stall. So I figured I’d just sort of stand there, wait for the other person to leave the stall, and then retrieve the loonie really quickly. After a brief pause, while I stood around in a bathroom stall, no big deal, the tip of a foot appeared. The foot surreptitiously stamped down on the loonie, and slid it away. A couple of seconds later, the owner of the foot left the stall.
Oh, ok, I thought, they could have kicked it back to me but that’s cool, I guess they’ll wait for me to get out of the stall.
So I finished up my business really quickly, and exited the stall. The bathroom was empty. It was a deserted wasteland. A tumbleweed rolled by. I calmly washed my hands and checked my hair. I was kind of laughing to myself, but I wanted to give this mystery person one last chance to return the dollar. They didn’t.
So THAT is the story of how someone STOLE my loonie, ON Good Friday, IN church!! (I thought it was hilarious)

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Resident Crazy + The Calendar

When Lena, Oliver’s mother-in-law, was working with me a couple of weeks ago, we saw a lot of Resident Crazy. Lena is a wonderful woman, and much much more patient than I am, and Resident Crazy absolutely adores her.

One day that week, Resident Crazy pranced in with one of those free recipe calendars. “Look what I have!” she told us. Then she did something completely out of character, and gave the calendar to Lena. At first, this seemed like unusual generosity on Resident Crazy’s part and I was surprised. But typically, it took a nose-dive back into inappropriate behaviour pretty quickly. Resident Crazy insisted that Lena write down her birthday (Resident Crazy’s) in the calendar. Lena willingly did so, and even wrote down Resident Crazy’s boyfriend’s birthday too. Then Resident Crazy asked eagerly “What are you gonna get me? For my birthday?!”
Lena looked her dead in the eye and said firmly, “I’m not getting you anything. I’ll send you a card.”
She’s nice and kind, but no one takes advantage of Lena!

Epilogue: I worked with Lena today, and Resident Crazy came in. She started blabbing about how she and Lena had the same birthday month. When she left, I asked Lena which month Resident Crazy said her birthday was in. Lena said July. Oh,” I said. “Resident Crazy’s birthday is in November. Oliver bought her a cake and everything last year….”

Liar Liar Pants on Fire!