Starbucks Customer Categories, The Next Batch
So while I've been quiet for the last few months I've been busily stashing away ideas for the next group of customer quirks I have to deal with. I've been discovering that the longer I work the same store, the smaller the quirks I start to notice. Without further ado...
Hansel And Gretel: Hansel and Gretel always begin their journey ogling your pastry case, deciding just which form of confectionary havoc they plan on causing that day. Their favorite item on the menu is Portland coffee cake, which I can only describe as a loose coalition of crumbs temporarily agreeing to be cake. H & G will leave a long trail of these crumbs leading all over the store, though you can always identify ground zero by the donut-shaped pattern of crumbs surrounding where they sat down to eat. I just hope that either my regular sweeping will cause them to loose their way, or one day the witch will finally decide they're plump enough to eat. Really, whichever comes first.
How Much Is That Doggy In The Window?: Waggling their fingers to the tune of "I want THAT one right there," doggies always pick the hardest to reach pastry in the entire case. Inevitably you will have to stretch just to be able to reach over all of the other apparently inferior pastries just to get that one right in the front of the case that they've set their heart on. I try to tell the other pastries that it's ok, that someday someone will pick them too... that or I'll cut one into little pieces as a sample to serve as an example to the others. Also to serve to myself. Mmmmm.
Is That Your Final Answer?: Treating every order with all the care and attention usually reserved for the one-million dollar question, Final Answers will constantly amend their order before letting you actually make it. "Can I get that iced? Can you do nonfat? No, wait. Can you do half syrup? Is it too late to get that blended? Can you add a splenda to that... wait, do you have equal?" Each successive modifier finds its way into your ear with all the welcome of a wet willy as you struggle to make their drink while juggling half a dozen others. Final Answers tend to always get their drinks made perfectly despite this, largely due baristas dreading having to deal with them a second time around.
The Riddler: The defining attribute of the riddler is their propensity for asking themselves any question you just asked them. "What can I get for you today?" is replied to with a "What do I want today?" as if the answer to your question is as much a mystery to them as it is to you. It's as if they don't know the answer to any question that they don't ask themselves. Sadly this is probably the category I fit into, as my brain often needs that kick-start before it will actually spit out a want or desire for me to satisfy. I only wish the process worked for declaratives. "You want a latte. Please deposit your earthly belongings into the tip jar. Thank you, your latte will be on the bar."
John: John is not particularly annoying. John likes to show up when the store is fairly empty, never orders a complicated drink, and is usually jovial enough. Their defining feature is that when you set their drink out they are no where to be seen. You scratch your head, wondering where your sole customer has gotten off to. The dead silence of the lobby only deepens the mystery. Then a flush resonates through the store, and in one swift motion John has their drink and makes a break for the exit. I look at John as a paragon of modern efficiency, leaving no moment to... waste.
Hansel And Gretel: Hansel and Gretel always begin their journey ogling your pastry case, deciding just which form of confectionary havoc they plan on causing that day. Their favorite item on the menu is Portland coffee cake, which I can only describe as a loose coalition of crumbs temporarily agreeing to be cake. H & G will leave a long trail of these crumbs leading all over the store, though you can always identify ground zero by the donut-shaped pattern of crumbs surrounding where they sat down to eat. I just hope that either my regular sweeping will cause them to loose their way, or one day the witch will finally decide they're plump enough to eat. Really, whichever comes first.
How Much Is That Doggy In The Window?: Waggling their fingers to the tune of "I want THAT one right there," doggies always pick the hardest to reach pastry in the entire case. Inevitably you will have to stretch just to be able to reach over all of the other apparently inferior pastries just to get that one right in the front of the case that they've set their heart on. I try to tell the other pastries that it's ok, that someday someone will pick them too... that or I'll cut one into little pieces as a sample to serve as an example to the others. Also to serve to myself. Mmmmm.
Is That Your Final Answer?: Treating every order with all the care and attention usually reserved for the one-million dollar question, Final Answers will constantly amend their order before letting you actually make it. "Can I get that iced? Can you do nonfat? No, wait. Can you do half syrup? Is it too late to get that blended? Can you add a splenda to that... wait, do you have equal?" Each successive modifier finds its way into your ear with all the welcome of a wet willy as you struggle to make their drink while juggling half a dozen others. Final Answers tend to always get their drinks made perfectly despite this, largely due baristas dreading having to deal with them a second time around.
The Riddler: The defining attribute of the riddler is their propensity for asking themselves any question you just asked them. "What can I get for you today?" is replied to with a "What do I want today?" as if the answer to your question is as much a mystery to them as it is to you. It's as if they don't know the answer to any question that they don't ask themselves. Sadly this is probably the category I fit into, as my brain often needs that kick-start before it will actually spit out a want or desire for me to satisfy. I only wish the process worked for declaratives. "You want a latte. Please deposit your earthly belongings into the tip jar. Thank you, your latte will be on the bar."
John: John is not particularly annoying. John likes to show up when the store is fairly empty, never orders a complicated drink, and is usually jovial enough. Their defining feature is that when you set their drink out they are no where to be seen. You scratch your head, wondering where your sole customer has gotten off to. The dead silence of the lobby only deepens the mystery. Then a flush resonates through the store, and in one swift motion John has their drink and makes a break for the exit. I look at John as a paragon of modern efficiency, leaving no moment to... waste.