I don’t know whether feel more offence or pity.
I’ve been putting off posting for a bit because I was hoping that my first post of the year would be some big, epic, self-reflective entry looking back on 2007 and looking forward to 2008. It had the potential to be especially reflective/nostalgic given that I finished my last undergraduate courses not a few weeks ago. There would’ve been Veronica Mars and Doctor Who references out the wazoo; forgotten quotes that, over time, have only become more ridiculous out of context; and maybe a picspam or two. It would’ve been glorious.
Alas, this is not to be. Instead of being in the proper broody and/or nostalgic mood the aforementioned entry would call for, I’ve been fighting an annoying cold. I suppose that’s irony biting me in the ass for saying that I was lucky for being one of the few at my work who hadn’t gotten sick. Ah, well. Such is life.
Anyhoo, I felt it necessary to post to prove that I hadn’t had a wild and crazy holiday season that resulted in me swanning off to parts unknown due to a New Years resolution of going out to see the world. Or something. I probably shouldn’t be writing this when I lost all semblance of coherence hours ago.
***
I hate that my first entry of the year is filled with such negativity, but I have to get this out: In the 2+ years that I’ve worked at Starbucks, I’ve encountered my share of rude customers. But never has anyone had the nerve to belittle me because of my occupation until tonight.
There’s this “customer” (we call him “the midget” amongst ourselves because he’s about 4’10’’ and probably twentysomething), a guy who comes into our store pretty much every day and bugs the hell out of everyone. He hits on every female barista to the point of discomfort, never buys anything, tries to weasel his way to get free drinks, always gets free water from us, occasionally brings along an equally annoying female to bother us, hangs out in our lobby all day with his laptop (apparently sometimes to look at porn), and leaves a mess behind. He’s rude and repulsive and an all-around disgrace to humanity. Our previous manager banned him from our store before, but when she transferred, everyone forgot about the ban, so the midget kept coming back. Since then, we’d all been looking for some solid grounds to ban him again.
On Sunday evening, the midget was back, lurking in the corner with his laptop and generally being a nuisance simply by existing. At point, he came up to the counter to ask T if he could borrow a gift card to use as a ruler (I know: WTF?). I happened to walk by, and T, who clearly didn't want to say yes, repeated the question to me. I simply said, “No” and walked away without further explanation. It was so blunt that A laughed (loudly), which further pissed off the midget. A little later, he passed by the counter on the way back to his corner. I smiled by brightest fake customer service smile, and he glared back.
An hour before closing, my former co-workers J and B stopped by to visit. J looked to the corner where the midget was sitting and asked me who wrote “Fuck everyone who works here” in the condensation that had formed on the windows due to the cold weather. The midget wasn’t in his corner at the moment because he stepped outside, but it had to be him because no one else would be immature enough to do such a thing.
They asked me if I wanted them to “take care of him.” I've never adored J and B as much as I did then. They're often crude and proper assholes. When it comes down to it, though, they're adorably protective. And because J is a really tall Mexican guy and B is a really tall white baseball player, they can look awfully threatening when they need to. I told them I wanted them to, but it would get all of us in trouble, so let it be for now. Instead, they sat at a table that was in full view of the midget just in case.
Later, I left the floor to talk to J and B in the lobby for a little bit. As I talked to them, I glanced over and saw the midget looking at me in what was presumably his way of staring me down. In actuality, it looked kind of pathetic. I turned to him fully, took a step forward, and said, “Can I help you with something?” He slightly rolled his eyes, shook his head, and continued to look at me. I snarked, “You sure?” He turned his head away but turned back again. I narrowed my eyes, feeling my blood pressure rising. Making a circular motion in the air with my finger, I said, “Okay. Can you turn away now?” He turned his head completely away, looking like a moron. When I turned back to J and B, I saw B looking around me to glare at the midget. Apparently, he’d been watching the whole time just in case.
A couple of minutes later, the midget’s mom came in with an umbrella and rain shoes, yelling at him that it was cold and raining, so come home now. He yelled back that she couldn’t tell him what to do. They bitched at each other for a full ten minutes as all of the baristas on the floor, J, B, and me pretended to go on with whatever it was we were doing but actually listening in amusement. (Man, I wished I recorded it. It was hilarious.) Finally, the midget left but not before leaving an unholy mess of torn papers, a broken pair of cheap sunglasses, leftover food containers, and a crumpled large paper grocery bag.
My manager happened to call later that night. I told him about the midget staring at me and practically begged him to let us ban him for good. Fully aware of practically everyone on the staff complaining about the midget, my manager said, “He made you uncomfortable? That’s it, then. Next time you see him, tell him that he has to leave for bothering the baristas. If he has any questions, tell him he can talk to me.”
Stupid me forgot to write a note for the rest of the staff that the midget was banned, and I had Monday off, so when I walked into the store for my shift on Tuesday, I wasn’t entirely surprised to find him sitting in the same damn spot. He looked at me as I walked in. Tossing all semblance of propriety out of the window, I snapped, “What?” He shook his head and looked away.
I saw one of my ASMs (assistant manager) first and said, “You know the midget’s banned, right? He pissed me off on Sunday, and [our manager] said we could ban him.” My co-worker, Lisa, heard from across the store and rushed over to where I was. Her and my ASM’s eyes lit up with joy. “Seriously?” They asked. I told my ASM to go tell the midget he was banned, and if the midget didn’t leave, call the cops. I didn’t want to talk to him because I might say something that’ll get me fired. Or I’d punch him. Either way, I’d get in trouble.
After some prodding, I convinced my wussy ASM that he’s management and should be the one to tell the midget that he was banned for several occasions of harassing baristas. And yes, several. The midget has recently spoken badly about several other baristas and may or may not have disappeared into the women’s restroom for 10 minutes with his laptop for reasons no one wants to think about.
A few minutes after going to talk to the midget, the ASM walked towards the back room and said that he was going to have to call the cops because the midget wasn’t leaving. About ten minutes after that, the midget approached the counter. The ensuing conversation went something like this:
THE MIDGET: Where’s the guy I was talking to? Is he in the back?
ME: Yes.
THE MIDGET: Is he on the phone? Tell him that he can call the cops, but I’m gonna leave now. But I’m gonna come back tomorrow and every fucking day after that. You’ll have to call the cops every day ‘cause I’ll keep coming back every fucking day. I never even did nothing to anyone.
ME: Yes, actually, you have.
THE MIDGET: [presumably referring to a previous incident with our ASM, who he accused of sexually harassing him by winking] You mean looking [at baristas]? Will looking hold up in court?
ME: Actually, I’m not referring to the looking. We have complaints from many baristas of you bothering them.
THE MIDGET: *apparently not listening to me* I understand, though. You work at Starbucks.
ME: *is thrown by the change in topic* Excuse me?
THE MIDGET: I would be angry at me, too, if I were you. You work here. I know how much you make.
ME: *so thrown at this point that my vision started to blur a little* Um, I make pretty good money, actually-
THE MIDGET: She-*indicated the girl working in the Drive-Thru*-told me she makes minimum wage.
[There were so many thoughts going through my mind, and I could not comprehend the fact that this fool was speaking to me like this, that I could barely speak. At this point, Lisa, the barista who I was training for SS and who has a temper like you wouldn’t believe, stepped up from behind me. I gripped the sides of the counter so hard that my knuckles were surely turning white.]
LISA: Excuse me?
THE MIDGET (smugly): I would be angry at me, too. *motions to his ugly ass wannabe hot gangsta outfit* I mean, you work at Starbucks with your little hat and your little shoes.
LISA: What the fuck are you talking about? You think you look good?
[I was still gobsmacked and unable to say anything coherent or professional. Part of me wondered if I should hold Lisa back just in case she jumped the counter to kick his ass. The other part of me wanted her to beat him to a pulp. Surprisingly (and a little disappointingly), she kept her cool.]
THE MIDGET: You’re just mad because you’re not doing anything with your life.
ME/LISA: I’m not doing anything with my life? You’re always here all day, every day with your laptop!
THE MIDGET: You’re working here.
ME: Yeah. At least I get paid. What are you doing here?
THE MIDGET: *starting to back away from the counter to go back to the corner* You’re probably 30 and live with your mom.
ME: *again, still gobsmacked* …Actually, I’m 20.
[Apparently, I said it so seriously that Lisa found it hilarious, so she cracked up.]
ME (calls over to where he’s packing up his stuff): Um, I have a job and go to UCI.
THE MIDGET (mockingly): Ooh, UCI. *makes an expression that somehow makes his butt-ugly face even uglier*
ME: So what are you doing with your life besides hang out here?
And then a customer came, so I went to help him out. As I went to pour the customer’s coffee, my hands were shaking so much from the pent-up anger/energy that I could barely put on the lid. As I finally handed him his cup, he asked jokingly, “You’re ready to throw some punches, aren’t you?” I half-laughed back, “Ooh, like you wouldn’t believe.”
On one hand, I’m completely offended that he has the gall to talk to me like he knows me. If I wasn’t so thrown, I would’ve told him that 1) I make well over minimum wage, especially as a Shift Supervisor; 2) there are very few part-time jobs that are better than Starbucks especially in terms of benefits; and 3) I also go school besides work here-and a UC at that, though that’s not the important part. And God, do I hate that he reduced me to using the name of my school to further my argument and make myself look better. I’m a little disgusted with myself for doing it. On the other hand, I pity him for being pathetic enough to try to personally attack me to make himself feel better.
The ASM came out of the back room and said that we had to write statements of what just happened so there would be written proof of the midget’s harassment when they called the cops. During my shift, I happily wrote a detailed novel about Sunday and Tuesday nights’ incidents. I even collected statements from Lisa and other baristas who had bad experiences with the midget before.
I’m making it my personal mission to collect written statements from everyone in the store. Whatever I can do to legally ban this fucker from our store, I will do. It’s no longer about getting his annoying ass out of our store. It’s about letting him know that he has absolutely no right to disrespect anyone, much less people who are just trying to do their jobs despite his rudeness. If he thinks he’s better than everyone and will get away with whatever he wants, he is sorely mistaken.
Other than that, tonight’s shift has been the easiest one I’ve had in a very, very long time. We had a full closing crew, plus an extra newbie and a trainee Shift Supervisor on a slow weeknight. The trainee SS did most of the management business only I could do, and the baristas took care of the rest. I barely did anything but write my novel-length statement and pig out on the In-N-Out (mmm, In-N-Out) that Lisa bought us. It was fantastic.
***
In less than a week, I’ll be hitting the big 2-1. A week after that is Las Vegas with the Kids. So. Effing. Excited. About Vegas. Wooo, outlet malls! And pretty sightseeing! And the drinking and the gambling, too, apparently, but mostly the outlet malls. Priorities, kids. Priorities.
Alas, this is not to be. Instead of being in the proper broody and/or nostalgic mood the aforementioned entry would call for, I’ve been fighting an annoying cold. I suppose that’s irony biting me in the ass for saying that I was lucky for being one of the few at my work who hadn’t gotten sick. Ah, well. Such is life.
Anyhoo, I felt it necessary to post to prove that I hadn’t had a wild and crazy holiday season that resulted in me swanning off to parts unknown due to a New Years resolution of going out to see the world. Or something. I probably shouldn’t be writing this when I lost all semblance of coherence hours ago.
***
I hate that my first entry of the year is filled with such negativity, but I have to get this out: In the 2+ years that I’ve worked at Starbucks, I’ve encountered my share of rude customers. But never has anyone had the nerve to belittle me because of my occupation until tonight.
There’s this “customer” (we call him “the midget” amongst ourselves because he’s about 4’10’’ and probably twentysomething), a guy who comes into our store pretty much every day and bugs the hell out of everyone. He hits on every female barista to the point of discomfort, never buys anything, tries to weasel his way to get free drinks, always gets free water from us, occasionally brings along an equally annoying female to bother us, hangs out in our lobby all day with his laptop (apparently sometimes to look at porn), and leaves a mess behind. He’s rude and repulsive and an all-around disgrace to humanity. Our previous manager banned him from our store before, but when she transferred, everyone forgot about the ban, so the midget kept coming back. Since then, we’d all been looking for some solid grounds to ban him again.
On Sunday evening, the midget was back, lurking in the corner with his laptop and generally being a nuisance simply by existing. At point, he came up to the counter to ask T if he could borrow a gift card to use as a ruler (I know: WTF?). I happened to walk by, and T, who clearly didn't want to say yes, repeated the question to me. I simply said, “No” and walked away without further explanation. It was so blunt that A laughed (loudly), which further pissed off the midget. A little later, he passed by the counter on the way back to his corner. I smiled by brightest fake customer service smile, and he glared back.
An hour before closing, my former co-workers J and B stopped by to visit. J looked to the corner where the midget was sitting and asked me who wrote “Fuck everyone who works here” in the condensation that had formed on the windows due to the cold weather. The midget wasn’t in his corner at the moment because he stepped outside, but it had to be him because no one else would be immature enough to do such a thing.
They asked me if I wanted them to “take care of him.” I've never adored J and B as much as I did then. They're often crude and proper assholes. When it comes down to it, though, they're adorably protective. And because J is a really tall Mexican guy and B is a really tall white baseball player, they can look awfully threatening when they need to. I told them I wanted them to, but it would get all of us in trouble, so let it be for now. Instead, they sat at a table that was in full view of the midget just in case.
Later, I left the floor to talk to J and B in the lobby for a little bit. As I talked to them, I glanced over and saw the midget looking at me in what was presumably his way of staring me down. In actuality, it looked kind of pathetic. I turned to him fully, took a step forward, and said, “Can I help you with something?” He slightly rolled his eyes, shook his head, and continued to look at me. I snarked, “You sure?” He turned his head away but turned back again. I narrowed my eyes, feeling my blood pressure rising. Making a circular motion in the air with my finger, I said, “Okay. Can you turn away now?” He turned his head completely away, looking like a moron. When I turned back to J and B, I saw B looking around me to glare at the midget. Apparently, he’d been watching the whole time just in case.
A couple of minutes later, the midget’s mom came in with an umbrella and rain shoes, yelling at him that it was cold and raining, so come home now. He yelled back that she couldn’t tell him what to do. They bitched at each other for a full ten minutes as all of the baristas on the floor, J, B, and me pretended to go on with whatever it was we were doing but actually listening in amusement. (Man, I wished I recorded it. It was hilarious.) Finally, the midget left but not before leaving an unholy mess of torn papers, a broken pair of cheap sunglasses, leftover food containers, and a crumpled large paper grocery bag.
My manager happened to call later that night. I told him about the midget staring at me and practically begged him to let us ban him for good. Fully aware of practically everyone on the staff complaining about the midget, my manager said, “He made you uncomfortable? That’s it, then. Next time you see him, tell him that he has to leave for bothering the baristas. If he has any questions, tell him he can talk to me.”
Stupid me forgot to write a note for the rest of the staff that the midget was banned, and I had Monday off, so when I walked into the store for my shift on Tuesday, I wasn’t entirely surprised to find him sitting in the same damn spot. He looked at me as I walked in. Tossing all semblance of propriety out of the window, I snapped, “What?” He shook his head and looked away.
I saw one of my ASMs (assistant manager) first and said, “You know the midget’s banned, right? He pissed me off on Sunday, and [our manager] said we could ban him.” My co-worker, Lisa, heard from across the store and rushed over to where I was. Her and my ASM’s eyes lit up with joy. “Seriously?” They asked. I told my ASM to go tell the midget he was banned, and if the midget didn’t leave, call the cops. I didn’t want to talk to him because I might say something that’ll get me fired. Or I’d punch him. Either way, I’d get in trouble.
After some prodding, I convinced my wussy ASM that he’s management and should be the one to tell the midget that he was banned for several occasions of harassing baristas. And yes, several. The midget has recently spoken badly about several other baristas and may or may not have disappeared into the women’s restroom for 10 minutes with his laptop for reasons no one wants to think about.
A few minutes after going to talk to the midget, the ASM walked towards the back room and said that he was going to have to call the cops because the midget wasn’t leaving. About ten minutes after that, the midget approached the counter. The ensuing conversation went something like this:
THE MIDGET: Where’s the guy I was talking to? Is he in the back?
ME: Yes.
THE MIDGET: Is he on the phone? Tell him that he can call the cops, but I’m gonna leave now. But I’m gonna come back tomorrow and every fucking day after that. You’ll have to call the cops every day ‘cause I’ll keep coming back every fucking day. I never even did nothing to anyone.
ME: Yes, actually, you have.
THE MIDGET: [presumably referring to a previous incident with our ASM, who he accused of sexually harassing him by winking] You mean looking [at baristas]? Will looking hold up in court?
ME: Actually, I’m not referring to the looking. We have complaints from many baristas of you bothering them.
THE MIDGET: *apparently not listening to me* I understand, though. You work at Starbucks.
ME: *is thrown by the change in topic* Excuse me?
THE MIDGET: I would be angry at me, too, if I were you. You work here. I know how much you make.
ME: *so thrown at this point that my vision started to blur a little* Um, I make pretty good money, actually-
THE MIDGET: She-*indicated the girl working in the Drive-Thru*-told me she makes minimum wage.
[There were so many thoughts going through my mind, and I could not comprehend the fact that this fool was speaking to me like this, that I could barely speak. At this point, Lisa, the barista who I was training for SS and who has a temper like you wouldn’t believe, stepped up from behind me. I gripped the sides of the counter so hard that my knuckles were surely turning white.]
LISA: Excuse me?
THE MIDGET (smugly): I would be angry at me, too. *motions to his ugly ass wannabe hot gangsta outfit* I mean, you work at Starbucks with your little hat and your little shoes.
LISA: What the fuck are you talking about? You think you look good?
[I was still gobsmacked and unable to say anything coherent or professional. Part of me wondered if I should hold Lisa back just in case she jumped the counter to kick his ass. The other part of me wanted her to beat him to a pulp. Surprisingly (and a little disappointingly), she kept her cool.]
THE MIDGET: You’re just mad because you’re not doing anything with your life.
ME/LISA: I’m not doing anything with my life? You’re always here all day, every day with your laptop!
THE MIDGET: You’re working here.
ME: Yeah. At least I get paid. What are you doing here?
THE MIDGET: *starting to back away from the counter to go back to the corner* You’re probably 30 and live with your mom.
ME: *again, still gobsmacked* …Actually, I’m 20.
[Apparently, I said it so seriously that Lisa found it hilarious, so she cracked up.]
ME (calls over to where he’s packing up his stuff): Um, I have a job and go to UCI.
THE MIDGET (mockingly): Ooh, UCI. *makes an expression that somehow makes his butt-ugly face even uglier*
ME: So what are you doing with your life besides hang out here?
And then a customer came, so I went to help him out. As I went to pour the customer’s coffee, my hands were shaking so much from the pent-up anger/energy that I could barely put on the lid. As I finally handed him his cup, he asked jokingly, “You’re ready to throw some punches, aren’t you?” I half-laughed back, “Ooh, like you wouldn’t believe.”
On one hand, I’m completely offended that he has the gall to talk to me like he knows me. If I wasn’t so thrown, I would’ve told him that 1) I make well over minimum wage, especially as a Shift Supervisor; 2) there are very few part-time jobs that are better than Starbucks especially in terms of benefits; and 3) I also go school besides work here-and a UC at that, though that’s not the important part. And God, do I hate that he reduced me to using the name of my school to further my argument and make myself look better. I’m a little disgusted with myself for doing it. On the other hand, I pity him for being pathetic enough to try to personally attack me to make himself feel better.
The ASM came out of the back room and said that we had to write statements of what just happened so there would be written proof of the midget’s harassment when they called the cops. During my shift, I happily wrote a detailed novel about Sunday and Tuesday nights’ incidents. I even collected statements from Lisa and other baristas who had bad experiences with the midget before.
I’m making it my personal mission to collect written statements from everyone in the store. Whatever I can do to legally ban this fucker from our store, I will do. It’s no longer about getting his annoying ass out of our store. It’s about letting him know that he has absolutely no right to disrespect anyone, much less people who are just trying to do their jobs despite his rudeness. If he thinks he’s better than everyone and will get away with whatever he wants, he is sorely mistaken.
Other than that, tonight’s shift has been the easiest one I’ve had in a very, very long time. We had a full closing crew, plus an extra newbie and a trainee Shift Supervisor on a slow weeknight. The trainee SS did most of the management business only I could do, and the baristas took care of the rest. I barely did anything but write my novel-length statement and pig out on the In-N-Out (mmm, In-N-Out) that Lisa bought us. It was fantastic.
***
In less than a week, I’ll be hitting the big 2-1. A week after that is Las Vegas with the Kids. So. Effing. Excited. About Vegas. Wooo, outlet malls! And pretty sightseeing! And the drinking and the gambling, too, apparently, but mostly the outlet malls. Priorities, kids. Priorities.