By Mary Gulino
According to witnesses, the barista at your local indie café wants you to get the hell out of his face. He can tell that you are patting yourself on the back for patronizing a small business instead of heading to a chain establishment, and he finds your sense of superiority baseless and condescending.
An experienced coffee master with over a decade of experience under his belt, the barista has little patience for your bullshit. He does not want to make you a medium-sized drink in a large cup, nor does he have any desire to add two Splendas. In fact, there is no Splenda at this café at all, because Splenda is for plebeians who lack taste.
The barista reportedly hovered over the touchscreen when you were deciding how much to tip. He saw you only opted for 15%, and that’s when his demeanor shifted from annoyed to straight-up offended.
Sources close to the scene also report feelings of general disapproval emanating from the cashier who just had to explain to the fourth person in a row that they’re a card-only establishment, as well as the chef who has been making substitutions in everyone’s breakfast sandwiches for the past seven hours, a solid five of which have been distinctly during lunch time. When you asked for an egg and cheese hold the cheese, the staff shared a collective sigh, wondering why you walked all the way here just to order something so bland. And in truth, you easily could have made that at home without getting anyone else involved.
Now that you are aware of the barista’s wishes for you to go fuck yourself, it is up to you to do with that information what you will. Did you just spend $7 on a drink that you don’t even want that much? Of course, and at first glance it may seem that you’re entitled to 30 minutes of lounging at the café, pretending to read a book. But should you gtfo before the barista throws a milk frother at your head? For your safety, and the safety of others, absolutely.
Image: My Recipes