CAUGHT IN A BAD ROMANCE (my story ends...)

        In training I watched a video of Howard Schultz, the CEO of Starbucks, talk about how the idea of his coffee shop came to be.  It started on his visit to Italy and how he saw the romance of the Italian coffee shop and tried to duplicate that here.

     There is no romance in the lobby of our Starbucks.  

     Our typical customer is a tree trimmer who meets each and every night with six of his fellow blue collar cohorts to discuss why their wives failed to add them to the titles of vehicles that were newly purchased.  Or, the cost of tree trimming service and who was really getting the money.  There were times these guys were so loud I began shouting to the customers in front of me.  One woman cringed as she paid.  The noise level with these six men was akin to a poker game played in a smoke-filled basement at midnight.  It was astounding.

     Often, Starbucks will play songs of the revolution generation.  Like, Bob Dylan  or Neil Young, and then more Bob Dylan.  This, of course, comforts the old gray haired men who think they still have a chip in the game.

      Listen, that game is long over.  The revolution against governemt failed miserably.  There are no more civil liberties and I don't see you complaining about it.  I don't see you protesting, boycotting, organizing, rallying or any of that.  So, get over your reminiscing and go sit down with your government hacked lap-top and check your blue chip stocks.  Admit it.  Those might really be the only chips you have in the game. 

      The entry rug of our store has never been vacuumed. Never.  The place was 10 years old.  Dirt was caked in.  I discovered this when I was looking for a vacuum cleaner and was told there was none.  Once I knew this, I no longer questioned the sand-like layer of dirt in our lobby as I swept.

  

     Meanwhile, in the bathroom, the crazy gray-haired lady cleaned herself up in her tattered tank top, and then would come up to the counter for a cup of hot water.  It was all she could afford.  We threw away sandwiches nightly that I'm sure she wished a shift manager would offer her--but that would have gotten him fired.

     The duplication of the romance failed miserably.  Maybe, if you played smooth jazz it might be romantic.  Maybe, if you redesigned your shops and put the noisy coffee grinders in the back we would all hear each other talk.  Maybe, if you trained your Manager to not shout to customers when repeating back their orders-- but, no, Mr. Schultz, there is no romance here.

     Instead, we are left with people touting an over-abundance of disposable income, loading and reloading gold colored cards for the liberty of talking condisendingly to the person taking their order.

     Rich people, that are so worried about getting ‘stars’ in their cups that they order all of the family member's beverages in separate transactions.  Then, in the middle of the final transaction, they stop you and tell you to load $108.60 on the gold card, because for some reason they need to pay for today's order and must know that there is $100 left on their gold card.  These are old men. Rich old men, that need to feel important. 
     These men need a lesson in life from my father.   I can see him turn his head in my direction, raise his voice and say, “You paid how much for that cup of coffee?!!  What the hell is wrong with you?!”  

     Red-eye, Black-eye, London Fog, Affogato Style, Upside-down, Double-blended....these are all demands the customer would make on the barista to concoct their beverage just right. 

     Now tell me, why do you come to the green apron if what you want is so complex it would take someone akin to a trapeze artist juggling flaming batons to create the concoction?  Just make it yourself at home if you are that needy. 
     The rest of us just drink coffee.  Sometimes with cream, sometimes with sugar, and sometimes……with both.

"You want your coffee..how?"

Thank You for reading my chronicles....I hope you enjoyed them....
--Nancy