I fucking hate when people have a good ol’ chat with the barista at a coffee shop.
Sure, she can probably boil milk while having a conversation just fine but there’s this feeling that if the annoying, stay-at-home mum with nobody else to talk to all day but her shitty, crying baby wasn’t chewing my coffee-maker’s ear off , she might be making it that little bit faster.
They really do need a sign that reads “Please DO NOT talk to the barista”, much like on a bus. –Is that a real thing or something I pulled from The Simpsons in to real life to try to make a point? - I know that comparing a bus driver to a barista is apples and unfocused, slow-working oranges, but the same principle applies, right?
You need to be focused and void of distraction or you won’t perform your job properly, obviously one results in a possible crash, 2 dead and several injured and the other results in a minute or two of completely warranted annoyance, to me they’re the same thing.
Some of you may be thinking “For starters, you’re a crazy person. Second, just because you want your coffee 30 seconds sooner, you’re going to deny the person making it a chance at a friendly chat?”
And you’d be right about both, if I’m going to be paying a stupid amount on overpriced, inner-west, average coffee then I should at least get some above average service to go with it.
It’s also really not my fucking problem if you want to have a chat while working.
It’s called “work” for a reason, and my job isn’t fun, why should yours be?
If you do happen to have one of these “fun” jobs then congratulations, you’re probably one in twenty, no, fuck that you’re more like one in fifty (especially if it pays well, too) and even then I think you’re a liar and if you’re not a liar then I simply just hate you, seriously, quit rubbing it in, dick.
I’ll admit it’s clearly just jealousy at its finest.
It’s not a reality for most of us but it’d be nice to have at least one or the other at our respective occupations, money or fun that is.
I know that I don’t have either, which makes 40 plus hours of my week even more soul-crushing than it already is.
Of course I’d rather have the money over the fun because let’s face it, enjoying my job isn’t going to pay my damn rent; and if I did enjoy my job I’d probably end up feeling bad about it because everyone around me would probably be hating wherever they are, while I frolic in awesomeness on a daily basis.
Anyway, back to our young, barista friend.
I may be looking at this in the wrong light completely, there’s a chance this caffeine dealer hates people just as much as I do but just finds it easier to engage with the local bum -Who has somehow developed an affinity for a Latte Macchiato, probably through the sheer fact that begging for change has a better salary package than my shitty job, not surprising, really.- rather than ignore these have-a-chat arseholes who feel the need to divide her attention between their meaningless bullshit and making my coffee at the fastest possible speed.
I know I do that every single day; make small talk with people I wish didn’t exist just because it’s easier than coming across as a prick.
Lucky for me though, most of my job is autonomous so I only have to speak to these horrible people through emails, completely eliminating the bullshit, back-and-forth of “How was your weekend?”
“Great, yours?”
“Not bad, I finished plotting the death of a co-worker.”
The fact that I don’t have to deal with that kind of thing is probably the only part of my job that I truly relish.
If only my local barista was that lucky.
AJ DeWolk