Nov 13, 2009 12:59
My buddy Owen said the other day that this whole "Canadian in Limey Land" thing has become "my character" rather than the real me because I don’t really whinge about England anymore. Which is true for the most part. I’ve become almost blasé about the all the little limey shit that used to really piss me off.
Do I still have terrible times with Limey customer service? Definitely, but I have now been in England so long that I don’t know if crap service is an "England thing" or if customer service has declined everywhere. Or maybe I (like the rest of the limeys) have just gotten used to getting bent over.
Either way, I haven’t had a massive temper tantrum in ages. I’ve had a few flare ups over petty things like the horrible Mancunian habit of saying nothing when someone holds the door open for them. I’ve said "I believe the words you’re looking for are ‘Thank you’" a number of times. I’ve shaken my head at people who didn’t thank bus drivers and flipped the bird to cars that cut me off when I ride into work, but I haven’t had a full on tantrum for months. Until today.
This morning I walked into a Caffé Nero to buy a coffee and a muffin. The muffins are put right out in front of the customers in an open top display so I grabbed one and took it to the till. The chick at the counter says: "Sorry, but next time can you get a BARISTA to get the muffin for you? Customers aren’t meant to touch them".
One of the things that piss me off more than anything in this country is when I am treated like a potential thief by some teenaged dickhead with a nametag. I’m here to BUY SOMETHING in your fucking store, assmunch! I understand that these muffins are probably stolen quite often because they cost the same as a bloody iPod, but Look! I have the money IN MY FUCKING HAND! I’m not hiding the muffin in my shorts, I’ve placed it on the bloody counter!
Oh, but it’s got to be some clever muffin RUSE! Yeah! I obviously put the muffin on the counter and jingled the coins in my hand to make you THINK I was going to pay for it and then when you’ve turned your back, that’s when I’d make my MOVE! Yes, the university picture ID hanging around my neck is probably fake as well! Haha, it’s inconceivable to sneak something past you, O wise Vizzini, You’ve outwitted me with your superior intellect once again!
BAREEESTA?! Fuck. Right. Off. You make COFFEE, lady. Something a trained ape could do. Just because you know how to sprinkle chocolate through a stencil doesn’t mean you can talk to me like you split the fucking atom.
Because her crack completely took me by surprise and I’ve been out of practice, I didn’t say any of that stuff to her. I believe my exact reply was "Are you fucking kidding me?! Why the fuck are they put out in front of customers if you don’t want them to touch them?! FUCK OFF."
It felt good, but she didn’t even flinch, in fact, she just said "Would you like some chocolate on your coffee?" I said "Yes, please" and she told me to have a nice day. And she wasn’t even being sarcastic. It was totally unfulfilling.
Ugh.
barista,
caffe,
tantrum,
janitor,
nero,
temper