Thursday, March 26, 2009

Lacking the necessary espression


I walked up to the counter of a small branch of a famous coffee shop (better not start naming names) this morning and asked for an espresso. Simple enough. Or so you'd think...

I'd been to this place before and last time the woman behind the counter had kindly shown me the tiny cup and explained that it was very strong, clearly expecting me to realise what a silly mistake I'd made and that I'd instead ask for a nice fluffy girly drink in an oversized mug with choc sprinkles or marshmallows. "No just an espresso please," I replied, "in one of those tiny cups". I declined the offer of milk, frothy and otherwise, and smiled sweetly to reassure her as she handed over my little cup of pure evil, still unsure as to whether she was giving me the right thing.


This second time I could feel, as I approached her, that it was going to be a similar battle. Today I was very tired, I really needed the caffeine fix, I had an important appointment to get to and a lot to do, I was soaked to the skin after half an hour walking in driving rain. I wasn't really in the mood to have to explain what I wanted, considering I was using the exact word which was printed on the large menu hanging above the counter, which should surely be easy enough with such a limited menu? But I was out of luck.

"Can I have an espresso please?" I asked wearily - weary from my journey and with anticipation of the confused exchange which was about to happen. "Just plain?" she asked, "Or do you want it skinny?"... I was rather taken aback by the skinny option being offered for an espresso. I'm not really sure what skinny means. To be brutally honest I'm not sure she did either. Maybe it means with-milk? I decided to avoid the word completely, "Yes I'd like it plain please". No Milk, I thought, good.
I started to get the feeling that she'd not really been listening to me when she started crashing around with milk cartons. Some people think they know best, like those hairdressers who give you the cut which they think suits you and not the one you've asked for. As if I don't know my own hair or my own palette, I've lived with them both for 33 years - I know what I like and I'd really rather like to have what I want. It's misplaced benelovence I suppose, thinking they know best, but what happened to the customer always being right?

"Do you want skimmed?" she chirped over the buzzing coffee machine. "I don't want milk thanks, just plain." This caused some confusion and a palpable air of incredulity from behind the counter, "But you asked for it skinny!!". Trying to remain as polite as I'd been brought up to be, although in my mind I was beating her around the head with a very small cup, I replied "No I didn't, I asked for it plain."

How am I supposed to know what the coffee-speak is for without-all-the-fancy-stuff-you’re-trying-to-make-me-have? And what hope was there for me if she didn't know the coffee-speak for a rather popular type of coffee?


I continued very patiently to explain that I would like a strong black coffee in a small cup. This had to make sense surely? Maybe she would even shake her head at me and ask me if I wanted an espresso then... that would be progress. But, no, the connection was lost. I was handed a normal (regular) sized black coffee and begrudgingly paid for it, mumbling that if I'd wanted an Americano I'd have asked for one - I know that much coffee-speak!

Now with literally two minutes for my coffee break and a very hot coffee to drink I was rather despondent. How lovely it would have been to have had a strong sweet shot instead of some coffee flavoured water! So I took a few sips, roughly an espresso's worth, and carefully returned my cup and saucer back to the counter on my way out, secretly hoping that she might be left wondering to herself, if all I wanted was a few sips, why didn't I just ask for one of those strange miniature coffees instead?

20 comments:

  1. I'm impressed you remained so polite. I would have been jumping behind the counter and helping myself to what I actually wanted.

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  2. I was a mixture of confused, bemused and British!

    I'm going to take a picture of what I want next time.

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  3. Brilliant! You take a seemingly insignificant event and misunderstanding, and retell it so masterfully that I am left wanting more...perhaps, the way you felt after you left without your shot of espresso...but I am absolutely certain that I have left more satisfied than you were! :-) Really enjoyed this!

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  4. It amused me in the end really After the initial incredulity. Plus it gave me something to muse about on my half hour return walk in the pouring rain.

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  5. Next time you're in Melbourne, you'll find we have a great coffee culture.

    Thank you - I'm so glad you liked the latest Verse And Worse segment!!

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  6. Oh dear I thought we had a coffee culture too! To be fair to the woman she may well have had to explain the menu quite a number of times!

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  7. Coffee? It is the new wine, renamed and rebranded. I guess you're going to shop around.

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  8. I feel tempted to keep on going back actually until we get it all straight!

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  9. Love coffee whatever they look like.

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  10. So today I was with my husband and I got him to order our coffees. He had no problem and said he thought I must have got the wrong end of the stick, not the woman behind the counter. Cheek! It was a different woman that was all. Still at least I got my espresso...

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  11. Ooo - I just noticed another nomination from David... lovely!

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  12. I always admire people who can cook up a story like this from those small episodes in life. This was written with such a wonderful sarcasm that I thoroughly enjoyed every bit of it.

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  13. I'm playing catch up.

    I'm amazed at how patient you remained. But really laughed when you said "in your head you were beating her around with a small cup...". How true it is people generally stop listening after the first few sentences and in her case words.

    Great story- I couldn't stop reading. Love your writing.

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  14. That's why I drink my coffee black! LOL! I don't understand coffee language either!

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  15. I live in a small seaside town where we still have a 1950's style coffee bar, not because they want to be retro, but because we don't like change. The coffee remains the same strange mixture it was way back then, a dark brown liquid poured into a thick white mug and then held under a tap that whooshes milk into it under extreme pressure. when I go to see my 2nd daughter in London and we go for coffee I am speechless in front of the very long list, until she buys me something that looks rather like our coffee bar stuff but tastes, thank heaven, like coffee.

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  16. Loved this! I don't drink coffee myself but I do know what you mean about assistants not listening to what you want. It's so frustrating.

    CJ xx

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  17. Thank you all for your visits and comments, I will visit you all as soon as I can. I'm a bit busy at the mo!

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  18. Congratulations, Pinkerbell!
    I thought this was a very funny post.
    Enjoy your espresso.

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  19. I have no idea how I missed this post? Congrats. Ditzy coffee girl needs new job.

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  20. Ah, there seems to have been a lot to keep up with recently - I'm well behind on everybody's blogs and on updating my own. Oh well, that's life!

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