this place makes me feel mean.

i am not her.

it's most unsettling to have to give my name out during the phone calls here. not because of any fear of a complaint, for a hide my annoyance well, but because it simply isn't fair that anything of my own being should associate itself with anything in this company in the ear of those who call here.
it's worse than calling someone and asking them who they are before introducing themselves.

no, it will not happen to me.

if you are hearing impaired, do not call me with your television blaring to ask me where the store is located. I will say, "Bleeker between 6th Avenue and MacDougal," and you will say, "between 6th Avenue and MacDougal?" And I will say, "Yes. Between 6th Avenue and MacDougal." To which you will respond, "So you're on MacDougal?" And my voice will tense slightly as I reply, "No. We're on Bleeker b-e-t-w-e-e-n s-i-x-t-h avenue and m-a-c-d-o-u-g-a-l." At this point in the call you will not have the right to interrupt me and lecture me on your disability, your old age, and your bad connection because you have chosen to continue your transactions with the company I work for by phone and not the internet, which, old lady, requires no communication with the healthier, the younger, and the good of hearing. More importantly, you will definitely not have the right to attempt to inflict your pain on me by taunting me with the possibility that the same may happen to me some day. That is completely unacceptable. No, absolutely not. Because if you attempt the latter I shall interrupt you with my own speech of human awareness, a series of: "I understand, honey. I have great experience in my position. I am merely attempting to be helpful by clearly pronouncing the syllables in my responses to your questions. I am trying to help," followed by a pause short enough to disallow any rebuttal before launching into the same response: "We're on B-l-e-e-k-e-r b-e-t-w-e-e-n s-i-x-t-h a-v-e-n-u-e and--" At which point you will, of course, interrupt me one last time to say, "yes, yes. I know. 7th."
I wish I could end it and just say, "yes."

we don't speak starbucks here.

and saying "but i tried to catch myself! didn't you hear me? i didn't quite finish?" does not make it any better. We all heard you say "venti" and while we don't really know what that means (small, medium, large?) we know what that means about you.

you are stupid.

let me put this simply. i don't think you're capable of understanding anything too complicated, too human, so i've kindly organized what i'm about to state in numerical fashion.

1. don't ever say "give me," "I want," or "get me" whatever amount of coffee will get you through your day. frankly, i am not here to "give" you anything. I do not care what it is that you "want," i'd like to be spoken to in a respectable tone. start your sentances with "may i have" or "i would like to place an order."

2. don't ever call without knowing what it is that you want. don't take up my time "umm-ing" and "let's see-ing". it's fucking annoying. it makes you sound like an idiot, you should know. you may only call without knowing what you want when you have a question. in that case ask it, then hang up, think about it without taking up my time, and call back to place your order.

3. don't ever explain to me why it is that you're ordering 4lbs of french mocha this time instead of 2. i don't care that your cousin danny is coming into town. frankly, i don't care about you so keep your personal life out of it. we're speaking through a telephone. i don't have to pretend that this is a human interaction because i cannot see you.

4. don't ever try to explain to me why your credit card was declined. i really don't give a fuck, and you shouldn't too. who cares what the woman on the other end of your phone thinks of your financial situation because you will never know her and frankly, you aren't that memorable. just shut the fuck up, get to the point, and give me your new credit card information.

5. don't ever insult me. i can be as quietly rude and arrogant as i'd like because i'm the one who knows whats going on, the one that gets you what you want. i'm doing you the fucking favor, not the other way around. you must win me over first.

6. don't call me for recommendations. we have over 100 different products. i don't know, or care, who you are so i have no idea if you'd prefer the brazilian over the kenyan. if you're really that confused go onto our website or come into the fucking store.

7. don't ever EVER take out your aggression on me. i don't care if your fucking mom died that morning, you are to be kind and polite on the phone with me. you are not to interrupt me, you are to wait until i finish relaying the specials of the week before you pick which coffee to order. its the least you can do. i'm waiting for you to finish placing your order. i want you to get the fuck off the phone.

coffee and cigarettes.

She is stiff, beautiful. Poised. Her fingers straddle her cigarette in the obvious way. She knows people are looking at her.Delicately curved strands of her hair dangle near her mouth, teasing. Tickling her lips and she doesn’t remove them. Her lips are painted a deep red.Her free hand brushes the pages of the magazine spread out before her on the stained, wooden table. Brushes the pages until she reaches for a nearly empty cup of creamed coffee. She twitches her face as she brings the cup to her lips; her hair falls back to its place. It hugs her jawline, curls to touch her exposed neck. She drops her arm back down to the table, releases the cup, touches her neck.Her eyes never look up to acknowledge those looking at her. She turns the page of her magazine.