Quote:
Originally posted by ltl/fb
So, I go down to Starbucks, and I order a grande nonfat latte. Not a difficult order. I hear the chippie I'm paying say to the barristo, "grande nonfat latte" like he couldn't hear it when I said it, since really no one else is there, it was quite slow, being kinda close to lunch and all.
Then I walk over and watch as the barristo guy puts whipped cream on top of a grande hot drink. He says, what did you order? And I say, grande nonfat latte. He nods, and puts the drink that involves whipped cream on the counter, and then walks over to chat with someone. Then he looks at me and says, that's your drink. And I said, no it's not, I ordered a latte, and that has whipped cream. And he says, did you request no whip? And I say, what? There is no whip in a latte. That's not a latte thing. And then he scraped off the whipped cream, and I must have looked irritated, because he offered to remake it, but I was in a hurry so I said no, it's fine, really, I don't care, I need to go, thanks.
It's not like it was a fucking frappuchino.
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Good god, is there no end to the incompetence (or the coincidences)? The other day I ordered a
cranberry orange muffin, and I had to ask for it three times (because nobody listens to you the first 2 times you say what you would like in response to their desultory "what would you like" queries), and yet I still received a fucking
blueberry muffin. The really horrible part was that I didn't even notice until I got to my office. The whole experience was so awful it made me want to give it all up and move to Maui with Thurgreed, provided he picks me up on the way and stops in at Starbucks to tell them a thing or two about how to treat a customer.
I mean, blueberries are blue. Cranberry oranges are not blue. Duh.
Edited to place question mark outside parens.
