Assertive Service

I've been working on becoming more assertive. I think I've been pretty successful on this venture. However, there is one place where no matter how much you want to stand up for yourself, you can't. That place: WORK.

Yesterday at the Corporate Coffee Shop Where I Work we were under-staffed. This is a glorious thing for morning rush. Our manager was out, our shift supervisor is new and was in the back fixing money stuff, our strong barista was ill and sent home early, so that left me and three people who are, to say the least, not strong partners at all. My shift supervisor left me in charge, mumbling something about, "back them all up... somehow," so I did.

For those of you who don't know me, or who have never worked with me in stressful conditions I have to tell you that I'm a rockstar. I pretty much fall into this uber-zen state and do about 85 things at once. This was noted in the six month review I got the other week - the one whereinwhich I received a 28 cent/hr raise for my amazing skills and abilities. Anyway, needless to say, yesterday morning I was superstar. Everything stayed re-stocked, coffee was made, I was five steps ahead of everyone and their mother, but I was not smiling.

I don't smile much when I'm not feeling totally ridiculous. When I don't smile I look sad. It's so annoying how people ask me what's wrong when I'm not smiling. I tell them it's nothing to worry about, it's just my facial structure. Anyway, when I'm in Zen-state, it looks like I'm in Mad-state, when really I'm being a rockstar. Listen and learn people, listen and learn.

This is when a customer walks in, male, 30's, kinda brash looking. Instead of walking up to either register he looks at me, points at the pastry case and says, I will have that. (This is a pet peeve of mine for two reasons: 1. I cannot see what the hell you're pointing to and 2. You will not HAVE it, you may ask for it politely because if it weren't for me you wouldn't get what you want anyway. I swallow this day in and day out over and over again)

So I say to the man, one of what? Keep in mind there is a line out the door and 3 baristas asking me questions all at the same time.
"One of those. Sandwiches," the man says.
"Which one, sir? I can't see where you're pointing."
"That one. In front."
"The bacon?" I ask. There is bacon clearly hanging out the sides of the sandwich. There is also a sign on it that says, Bacon Egg and Cheddar. I know this because I put the sign there.
"Yes the bacon."
"OK, is that to go?"
"Yes," he says and wanders away. I keep an eye on him to make sure he will pay for his food. He does.

I do about 18 things in the minute it takes for the sandwich to warm, one of which was assure the aforementioned man that yes, I did have his sandwich, when he inquired as to its whereabouts less than 30 seconds after I told him I had it. He also asked me at this point what "my problem" was. I kinda gave him a confused look and said, uh, nothing?

Then it gets really busy. There are 4 sandwiches and a couissant to be warmed. One barista is having trouble with a customer that I try to troubleshoot. We're almost out of coffee. I'm exhausted. The oven beeps, I pull the guys bacon sandwich out, toss in another, make eye contact with him from across the store, meet him at the counter and toss the sandwich onto the counter and turn to take care of another problem.

This is what I get:
"What the HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?!?!" he yells. I turn around. Every customer in the store looks up.
I pause. "Excuse me?"
"You just THREW this sandwich at me!"
"Um, I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean for it to seem as if I threw the sandwich at you..." I began to say in my extraordinary 5 star customer-service voice.
He then takes the sandwich and slams it down on top of the pastry case. "I don't WANT this sandwich!"
"OK, um, well I can make you another if you like sir or.. you don't have to pay for this one at all. I'm really sorry. You didn't pay for it yet did you?"
"I COME IN THIS STORE EVERY DAY!!!!!!!! I DONT KNOW WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!!!!!!!"I think I might have heard him say I was acting like a bitch but by this point I turned and walked away and noticed him walk out the door. Then I was really charming to everyone else in line.


Now, if you didn't hate your job enough already, this is an instance that will make you loathe it even more. Sadly, I don't care about this job enough to be so scared that I'd get fired for this. In fact I knew I wouldn't. Instead I spent the next two hours coming up with little scenarios in my head as to what I should have done in order to enterain myself and make this guy feel like the total jackass moron he is (a la High Fidelity). Sure, was I wrong to not kindly hand the sandwich to him directly, make eye contact, smile at him, thank him and tell him to return like we're supposed to do in Corporate Coffee Land. Yeah, according to the rule books I was wrong. But I don't care about those rule books as much as I care about myself. This is what I came up with as alternative ways to handle the situation:


1. When the man asked me what the hell was wrong with me, I should have told him that my mother was just diagnosed with cancer or today is the one year anniversary of the time I was raped. Call me a horrible person, but I imagine the look on the yuppy asshole's face would be just priceless.
"My mother was just diagnosed with cancer. Please, Yuppy, enjoy your bacon sandwich."

2. I ask him if he wants me fired. When he says yes, I hand him our district managers business card, tell him to call her and say that Alli from store #XXX was a raging bitch and you want her fired. What he does not need to know is that last time I saw our district manager we talked about South Beach and staying out all night drinking. I think she kinda likes me.

3. Invite him back for another bacon sandwich, one that I would actually throw at him as to differentiate between THROWING a bacon sandwich and LACKADAISICALLY TOSSING one in his general direction.

4. Kindly asking him what his problem was and why he was so upset about his stupid bacon sandwich. Offering to send flowers for a problem that must clearly be bigger than this one, and if there is no such problem punching him in the fucking face for getting so worked up about a sandwich when there are people dying all over the world at that very second.

5. Telling him to go ahead and fire me. I'd give him my manager and district manager's card and say that I would really like him to get me fired that way I could file for unemployment and instead of getting paid to warm up his bacon sandwich I'd get paid to sleep in and blog about what a fucking irrational asshole he is all day long.


Alls I gotta say is that guy better watch his back the next time he comes in, and ya'lls better keep an eye open for the entry whereinwhich I talk about hitting the lowest of the low and actually getting fired from my stupid ass Corporate Coffee Shop job. Although, now that I think about it... maybe I'll do something bad every day just to see how far I can test the system. Enjoy your lattes kiddies, and remember, there isn't that much of a difference between a 160 degree latte and a 170 degree latte anyway, and if you really care about this sort of thing might I kindly suggest that you get over yourself, buy an espresso machine and leave me the hell alone.