I’ve said before that I don’t like complaining about things here unless I feel like they’re really worth my time. This is.
I like coffee. In fact, I love coffee. I would not be capable of functioning as a human being without coffee. It is common knowledge that one of my favorite things about being employed at Securian is the Caribou Coffee on the second floor in my building. I go there every day.
Statistically speaking, I realize that getting coffee every day means that sometimes they’re going to get my order wrong. They’re human. It happens.
Usually it’s something really insignificant.
Barista: Wait, did you say dark roast?
Barista: I’m so sorry, this is light. Let me get you anoth–
Me: Oh, don’t worry about it. This is fine, it’s still caffeinated.
Sometimes they deny actually making a mistake.
Barista: Small espresso cooler for Lindsay!
Me: Is that double blended?
Barista: Oh…yeah. Of course.
I’m pretty sure I only saw it get blended once, but I take his word for it and ten minutes later I’m sucking on an enormous chunk of ice with my straw instead of icy liquid coffee goodness.
While this is a bit irritating because on top of messing up my order the barista lied to me, it’s still not that big of a deal. I can move on with my day.
Every once in a while though, they screw up something that actually matters, and still deny it.
Barista: Small hazelnut latte for Lindsay!
Me: That’s soy, right?
Spoiler alert: that’s not soy. For those of you wondering why soy matters, let me clarify that I’m not a soy milk sipping yuppie who thinks the antibiotics used on cows are going to mess with my chi. I am, however, lactose intolerant.
Again, I realize that the baristas are human and mistakes will happen. What shouldn’t happen is the baristas lying about what they did or didn’t do.
I think I’m just going to stick to black coffee for awhile, and when they ask, I will assure them with the same conviction they assured me about my orders that it wasn’t me who released several rabid chipmunks into the back room.