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I don't even know, people. They let anyone write on the internet nowadays.

Mar 9, 2010

An interaction where 2 worlds collide

This happened to me this last Sunday at the Coffee Shop:

Guest walks in, with some very specific ideas of what he wants (tea is apparently at optimal brewing temperature at 160 degrees Fahrenheit, which explains why a chai tea abomination tastes so darn good), so I am (as always) cheerful and helpful as i can be. This guy is one of those guests that can make you feel incompetent just by having to remind you to get a glass of water (which doesn't show up on the ticket as it is free and is frequently a pain in my butt- if you aren't paying for it, why get bent out of shape over reminding me about it?) - not maliciously, mind you, he's just so dang nice about, i handle his order (green tea, strawberry cake, and large latte which i make with 2 separate 2 shot pulls for the requisite 3 as he strikes me as the type to be able to taste how much longer the 3 shot head takes to make the freaking espresso (oh, and water)) and bring it out to him. Later, he orders another, more froufy drink for his daughter, then chats with me as i'm making it. We actually kind of encourage this, tho our counters were ordered too high so it's like being in a freakin' fortress when you are under 6 feet (Long John doesn't have to worry about this). Anyway, while waiting in line to order his drinks, one of our other, off duty baristas was at the counter ordering for herself, and had asked me about my internship. Guest starts making small talk, asking about what kind of interning i was doing (mistakenly believing i was interning at Coffee Shop. man, that'd suck). I explained i interned at Magazine, and he verifies that i am, in fact, an English major, about to graduate no less.

Guest starts relating this story of his son, who went  to a college he hated as an English major, because the college was renowned for making contacts. Son of Guest lands an internship for a magazine in freaking Paris, then comes back and lands a job as an editor at Penguin Books (one of my many hopeful future employments). I am fascinated and try to tell guest that that is my dream job, but he talks over me to elaborate on his son's (perfect) job and how making connections is how he got there.

I try to introduce myself. Guest talks over me, giving me advice to make connections.

I try to introduce myself again, Guest wishes me luck and walks out the door, all without letting me know his name.

Ironically frustrating.

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