Baristas have to be able to do it all; have hustle, patience, and know drink recipes all with a smile on their face. So a good piece of advice is to tip them well and often because these folks work hard! Well unfortunately the customers in this story didn't get the memo. These baristas share the most entitled customers they've ever served.
That’s Gotta Hurt!
“I just finished training in a cafe located in a public market that happens to also be a popular tourist destination. The cafe area is practically a shoebox. I’m talking like 7 feet by 9 feet. So super tiny space but we somehow manage to serve over 500 customers a day. We don’t have our own seating, but we do have self-serve drip coffee and espresso machines. We hand customers the size of cup they want, and they can fill it up with either medium, dark, or decaf coffee.
Yesterday, we made changes to how that works because of quarantine. The coffee jugs have a handle on top that customers pump to dispense coffee. They used to face the customers, but they now face towards the cafe so baristas have to pour coffee for the customers. This is because we don’t want customers touching ANYTHING other than the card reader. Not even the milk jugs. We are pouring EVERYTHING for them.
So the other day this elderly man came in. I recognized him as the type of old man who usually pays for a small cup of joe, pours a very tiny amount of coffee, then empties the milk jug into his cup. Surprise surprise, but he did exactly that. He ordered a small cup of coffee, then looked very bewildered by our new setup. I explained to him that we now have to pour everything for him. All customers have complimented us for this… except for him.
The crazy curmudgeon tried to grab the cup from my hand just because he wanted so dearly to pump the coffee himself. As I held the cup in my hand, he dispensed a cup-full of FRESHLY BOILING coffee onto my hand. I shout a little ‘OUCH,’ but he keeps on telling me that he wants to do it himself like a child. I told him, ‘Sir, we are not allowing customers to touch anything, not even the handles!’
Thank goodness my manager was there and she took over his order. She told me to run my hand under some cold water and take a five-minute break. It was a chaotic day with all that new setup and protocols. I guess she’s known about him for a while because I didn’t hear anything from him when he left with his coffee.
For the five hours remaining in my shift that day, I had a red mark on my left hand, but my generous manager added $5 to my tips as a ‘training bonus’ and sent me home that day with a pound of coffee beans.”
What Is Wrong With This Old Man?!
“I don’t know about any of you guys, but it seems like my coffee shop is very popular with the older generation of people. I’m not talking the really nice, goofy old people who tell you funny stories, I’m talking about the old people who are between the ages of 50 and ‘I can’t believe I’m still able to walk on my own who think they know everything, are better than you and feel like they deserve free stuff for just making it through another day of being old.
Okay. So like most coffee shops, we have a top cup on the counter, also like every place ever, we don’t force anyone to tip us.
So we have this old guy who comes in every. single. day. He’s really rude and always refuses to pay for his stuff until everything is right in front of him. We could have a line out the door and he would refuse to pay until his 5 sandwiches were done.
ANYWAYS. He comes in, I take and prepare his order. I tell him the total (which was $6.50) and he hands me $5. I repeat his total for him, assuming he didn’t hear me, and he says:
Old Man: ‘Oh. I only brought in a $5.’
He starts looking through his pockets and complaining about how high are prices are when he sees our tip cup. He then REACHES IN AND TAKES OUT 2 DOLLARS.
Me: ‘Uhm Sir, You can’t do that. That’s our tip cup.’
Old Man: ‘I can do whatever I want. Do you want me to pay for my stuff or not?’
I’m trying very hard to keep a calm and friendly composure considering he’s tried doing this before.
Me:’Yeah, You have to pay the full total. Not from my tip money though.’
He then somehow comes up with some way to tell me that the money in the tip cup is not mine, doesn’t belong to any of the employees, and that since he took it, it’s his now and I have to accept it.
My shift leader even came up and explained to him he’s not allowed to do that, that the money becomes ours once it’s in the cup, says other people were nice enough to tip us for our service not to leave it there for him to pay for his drink.
He becomes so angered by this that he starts having a fit. Called my shift manager a lazy old woman for not having a ‘real job,’ said we are all entitled kids begging for handouts, demanded we remove the tip cup because it’s not his job to pay for my college, said full-time min-wage workers are already overpaid therefore no tips should be allowed, said we were greedy because it was only $2, and then said he would call my manager later.
After all of that, my shift leader told him to just take his stuff and leave. On the way out he said ‘our coffee tastes lousy anyways.’ as my shift leader said ‘Good. Don’t come back then.’
I hate my job…”
“Small Black Coffee With Honey”
“So I work at a coffee shop/gas station and our drive-thru is still open but our lobby is closed. So we’ve been doing everything via drive-thru. This woman who came through today annoyed me enough so here I am!
I work at a coffee shop and our drive-thru is open however our lobby is closed. The other day this woman came through and royally annoyed the heck out of me.
So during a rush, this woman ordered a small black coffee with honey. Okay, a little odd but no big deal. When she got to the window she paid then she saw that we didn’t put the honey packets in the coffee and instead left her with some honey packets instead.
Now usually, we would put the honey in ourselves but because of covid, we have stricter policies when it comes to food handling and everything. Our honey is in solo packets and we are not allowed to open them which is why we served them on the side. I explained this to her and of course, she was unhappy with the reasoning. She finally relented with a scoff and accepted but ask for extra honey and straw to stir.
We gave this all to her and things seemed fine until we noticed that she was not moving forward in the line. I opened the window only to find her sitting in her car slowly opening each and every honey packet then throwing them out the window as she went. Like… really?!
Ms. Ma’am… if you pull forward just a bit we have trash on the curb plus we literally have cars lined up down the lane. Like, there were cars behind her that were HONKING at her and this Karen couldn’t take a hint. So I said to her, ‘Ma’am, can I have you pull forward?’
She just straight-up refused, lifted up the coffee cup up and responded in the snootiest of tones, ‘Can’t you see I have hot coffee in my hand without a lid?
‘Why yes I can, I have eyes,’ I thought to myself, rolling my eyes.
At this point, being nice didn’t matter anymore.
‘Well if you pull forward like five feet, we have a trash can you can use to throw out your honey packets instead of just throwing them onto the ground like that,’ I said. Karen began slowly moving forward, slammed her brakes like a crazy person, and tossed another honey packet out the window. By now the line was just a mess of car horns honking.
When she finally moved out of line, this crazy woman was still throwing trash out of her car window the entire way! Just leaving an annoying trail of trash through the parking lot even while she passed multiple trash cans!
I’m unsure if this was her being petty because she had to add her own honey into her coffee but it just really feels that way which added on more annoyance to this situation. Like, sorry it was annoying for you to add in your own honey to your coffee but it’s not our fault there is a quarantine going on which caused stricter policies.
I think if she ever comes back, I’m just gonna magically be all out of honey.”
Sir! This Is A Coffee Shop!
“During my early morning rush (in which I did $300/hour in sales by myself), I had a customer walk in and see the line to the door and instead of waiting in line like a regular perosn, he simply shouted his order at my from the door like a prick and sat down. 30 minutes later, my line has slowed down but I still haven’t made his drink so he angrily stompped up to my till demanding to know where his coffee was.
‘I’m sorry, what did you order?’ I asked
‘I told you what I wanted when I came in!’ shouted the jagoff.
‘Oh, I’m sorry!’ I apologize, ‘But you can’t shout your order at me like it’s an NY deli. This is a coffee shop sir.’
At this point the guy just started shouting incoherently. Like there were certainly sounds coming out of his mouth but for the life of my couldn’t understand exactly what he was saying.
By then I saw a few more of my chill regulars walk in and since this guy wouldn’t tell me what he wanted, I decided on helping my regulars instead who I already know what they want. I love my regulars and the love me.
‘Hey, good morning Tom! How’s the wife? You getting your usual today?’ I asked.
Tom beamed a grin and nodded to me. ‘Wife’s doing great and ya, I’ll love my usual. Thanks, Rami!’
‘Cool beans, I’ll have that right up for ya!’ I replied
Now jagoff was absolutely seething at this point. ‘Where’s MY drink!?’ he grumbled.
‘You still haven’t told me what you wanted or paid for a drink sir. What can I make for you today?’ I asked again.
‘I just want a dang latte!’ shrieked the jagoff.
‘Okay, and what size and milk?’ I asked, hoping that we were finally getting somewhere. But alas!
‘Just make me a dang latte!’ he shouted again.
‘Hmm…’ I say, ‘Yeah-no. This is like the third time you’ve shouted at me, man. I’ve had enough of you and you need to leave.’
By now Mr. Jagoff is even more ticked off. I saw him take a breah like he was about to really let something rip when one of my regulars grabbed him by shoulders and told ‘Hey, I think she’s right. Time to go, buddy.’
The guy turned around to see the whole crowd of my regulars pushing him out the door. I guess they didn’t appreciate his yelling as much as I did either! They certainly didn’t take kindly to some prick yelling at their favorite barista!
It’s also worth noting that this shop was on the municipal side of town so many of my regulars were lawyers, DAs, city officials, city workers, police and state troopers, etc. Most of them were actually chill and really great tippers once you earned their trust.
I’m a small woman with ink, facial piercings, and colorful hair who always played punk or rock who makes a strong coffee and serves it with some sass and a smile. So me being sassy back was part of coming in and my manager was okay with it because I always had compliments from my regulars and my sales were consistently high. Being a barista is hard work but its easier when your customers got your back.”
Two Entitled Cows Walk Into A Coffee Shop…
“Let me start off by saying I’m fairly new. I’ve only been a barista for about three months. I love my job and I’m eternally grateful that most of our customers are really awesome. When I do encounter a rude customer, it usually just rolls off my back. It’s few and far between.
But these two cows come into my work every day. These women are the epitome of entitled upper-class spoiled brats. Every time they come in they always complain about the other patrons or the store. Like ‘there is a homeless person outside. What are you going to do about it?’ Or ‘Why don’t you have skim milk at the condiment bar? Are you guys hiding the skim milk? Why are you doing this to me.’
Keep in mind the homeless dude wasn’t panhandling or bothering anyone. He was drinking his coffee on a seat outside. We have half and a half at the condiment bar… I don’t know. Ask the owner, brats.
Today, these two guys come in during a late rush. It’s about 10 am and we’ve got a steady stream of customers coming in. They leave a push mower outside and bring in a weed whacker. They look homeless and are covered in lawn clippings. The entitled cows come in a few minutes after the homeless guys. They are snickering and laughing at the homeless guys. These are women well into adulthood, however, they were behaving like children.
I was on the bar, several paces away from the register and I could hear the rude comments the cows were making about their clothes and smell. So the homeless guys get to the register and show two gift cards. They want to know how much is on them.
At this point, the entitled cows behind them begin to huff and puff. The older woman says something like ‘I knew they wouldn’t have money.’ As loud as she could. The homeless guys order two hot chocolates and a bunch of breakfast and pastry items. They were so kind and polite. They even tipped us. When I was making their hot chocolates I got to talking to them, and they told me they were going around the neighborhood asking to mow lawns. They were saving for an apartment and trying to get back on their feet. I’ve seen them before, they are both nice guys and have never caused a problem.
The next drinks up are the bloody entitled cows… Who, by the way, had the gall to ask my workmate ‘Why we let people like that into the store.’ … Urrr. I was fuming.
Their nonfat vanilla lattes turned into breve vanilla cappuccinos with dead decaf shots. Sorrynotsorry. Here are your lousy drinks you freaking cows.”
Coffee Should Not Be This Complicated!
“It’s 11 sharp in the evening and all my partners and I can finally take off our headsets and deal with the aftermath of a busy Saturday. I took the last register to count, set my safe, and finish the count in less than a minute. Easy. I walked towards the lobby to check on some things and saw a car in the window of the drive-thru. I gave them a sign that we are closed and hoped that they drive off.
I walked back and saw them still there and decided to ignore them since the customer base in my area is abnormally entitled and believes they can get away with anything. Anyway, these people are strangers to me and the last thing I need is robbers to jump me after another lousy day.
I keep working when I heard banging on our door. I take a peek expecting some creep but nope, I see some woman who looks like she is about to cry. I mean that sucks, but here’s the thing the doors were already closed and if I opened them then the alarms will go off so I told her that we’re closed and that I can’t open the door.
I walked away only to hear the phone ring. I looked over and the same crazy lady was standing outside with her phone in hand. Great. I picked it up and asked how we could help.
Apparently, she was lost and spent 30 minutes trying to find my store. She continued saying that she placed a mobile order and expected us to hand it to her. I told her I cannot because I can’t open the door, for safety reasons of course.
Not to mention if people don’t come by in 15 to 20 minutes we throw away any drinks. I told her that, too but of course, she doesn’t want to hear that now does she? Nope, this lady wanted a refund now after we’ve closed. I told her I literally cannot on the account that we were not only closed but I had already taken down money.
‘Why not?’ she asked. Did I just not tell this person I could not open the door? She then told me and I quote, ‘…so you’re scamming me out of a drink and refund?’ I mean sounds like a pretty lousy scam? I mean what a $5 cup of coffee? By now I was trying to be nice to this obviously emotional person, but I cannot do anything at this moment. Instead, I offer her to come back tomorrow for her drink or refund, or if she wanted she could always call corporate to complain. But you know what? Those instructions must’ve been too difficult for this crazy lady.
She wouldn’t listen to a single word I said and instead wasted like 15 more minutes of our time ranting when we really should’ve been closing. Finally, I relented, and just gave her the number of our district manager and she leaves. My DM came in Sunday, since he lives nearby, and starts telling me what a prick that lady wound up being. Coffee should not be this complicated people!”
It Costs Nothing To Be A Good Person
“I get the call at around 6:30 AM, which is a little after my not-Starbucks chain coffee shop is supposed to open. One of the other managers had quit a couple of days ago, and for whatever reason, nobody covered her shift. The store is empty, and customers are lining up and angry. I should’ve just gone back to bed, but instead, I got up on my day off and went in to help.
Two important characters are two of my regulars, who I’ll call Jason and Sam.
Jason is probably my favorite regular, always tips well and leaves us good reviews on our company surveys, and is just all-around a nice dude.
Sam is the exact opposite end of the spectrum. He comes in once a week and orders eight large drinks (skim white mochas with hazelnut and vanilla). He then takes them home and puts them in his fridge and microwaves one every day. We dread seeing him as he majorly messes up our times, and causes any poor soul who’s in line after him to wait upwards of ten minutes to get their order. He’s also been known to tell us to remake all of his drinks if he tastes one and it isn’t ‘right.’ (It hasn’t happened on one of my shifts and I’m really waiting for the day it does so I can tell him to pound sand, but I digress.)
Another important detail is that my coffee shop is a kiosk inside a grocery store. So often, customers will order their coffee and then pick it up after they get their groceries.
Anyways, I get into the store at around 6:45 and start setting up shop. I have to explain to several customers, including Sam, that I just got here and it takes some time for the espresso machines and coffee carafes to heat up and to come back in 20 minutes. Sam says something about how I shouldn’t have been late and I shoot back that it’s my day off and that he can take it up with my boss if he has a problem. He grumbles something and leaves to peruse the groceries.
I’m putting the finishing touches on my open when Jason saunters up. It’s around 7 by now. I explain the situation to him and tell him I’m almost ready to open when one of my espresso machines finally fully powers on, which means it’s ready to go and I can open it. Awesome! Since Jason is right there in line, I start making his drink first. Jason is happy, and he leaves a nice tip. He sits down and waits.
While I’m making his drink, who else joins the line but Sam. He opens by saying, ‘I’ve been here since 6 AM and I should’ve been helped first.’ Well, you left, and you have eight drinks that you want. You can wait. I don’t say this to his face, of course, because I like my job. I ring him in and he throws a 50 at me (his order is usually around $48) and sneers at me to keep the change. I finish up Jason’s drink and start the task of making Sam’s drinks. The entire time I’m on the bar, he’s hurling insults at me. Talking about how lazy millennials are, how poor the management of my store is, you get the gist. At one point he starts pestering me about ‘When’s the next time your boss works? I’m gonna tell him how rude you were to me. I’m a regular and I deserve better.’ I start crying, and who else confronts him but Jason.
‘Hey, they’re obviously understaffed today, and she’s is doing a great job. They didn’t have to come in today but they did and you should be grateful. If not, there are about a hundred other coffee shops in a 10-mile radius that you can go to instead.’
Sam shuts up, and I get to finish his drinks. Jason throws an extra $5 bill into my tip jar for dealing with that, and so do a couple of others in the line. I calm down and get through the line, and finish out the shift without much further incident. I haven’t seen Sam since then, and the next time I see Jason I’m going to comp his drink. He deserves it.”
Now That’s A Great Manager
“I’m from the UK, and over here we have bank holidays, which is basically an extended weekend (Saturday, Sunday, Monday). Because of this, we closed at Sunday time on Monday (6 pm instead of 8 pm). It’s the middle of summer, I and my coworkers were almost closed down, and the store was virtually empty. So far so good.
Ten minutes before closing, as I’m bringing in the outside furniture that wasn’t being used (there was one couple sat outside on one of the tables) a middle-aged lady came up to me and asked if we’re still open. I explained that yes we were, but we close in 10 minutes’ time. She then asked ‘Have I got enough time for a coffee?’ to which I say ‘It depends on how fast you can drink and how fast the drink is made’ – how else was I supposed to answer?
A customer entered the store and started ordering her drink with the barista on the coffee machine, who was also the supervisor on shift that day. She took a few minutes deciding what she wanted, then ordered her drink – an extra hot latte with extra hot milk. Again, my supervisor explained that we close in 10 minutes, and recommended making it in a takeaway cup so that she won’t have to rush (also, so we can turn off the potwash as fast as possible).
The customer refuses, says she wants a glass. Okay, maybe she can drink piping hot coffee like a superhuman. The customer got her coffee, sat down and started reading. It was 5 minutes until closing at this point, so everyone was just about to finish up their drinks and starting to leave. One minute until closing and the customer still hadn’t touched her drink. Turns out that she had been waiting for the couple sat outside to leave in hopes that as soon as they leave, she can take their seat and stay longer.
It’s now 6:10 pm, and the customer is sat outside, coffee still untouched, so I go outside and politely let her know that we are closed and that she’ll have to finish her drink and leave. She. Went. Insane. She started screaming at me about how both I and my supervisor said that she had PLENTY of time to finish her coffee and that it’s not her fault that we couldn’t make a coffee fast enough. I tried to explain that we both told her that we closed at 6pm, and that I’d given her extra time (even though it was only 10 minutes, our company has strict rules on making sure everyone is out by closing time) to finish her drink. She said, ‘Well I was told that I had enough time, so I’m going to sit here and finish my drink in my own time.’
Whatever lady. I went back inside and explained what the customer had said to me to my supervisor. The supervisor ends up marching outside with a takeaway cup, pouring the coffee into the cup, walking back inside with the glass, and locking the doors. The customer was TICKED OFF. The next day, she came marching in and demanded to speak to my store manager. She then started yelling at my manager about what happened the night before.
My manager, being the most awesome woman she is, just said ‘Well, we were closed, and since we asked you repeatedly to leave and reminded you that we closed at that specific time, my staff did nothing wrong’ before walking away. The customer just stood there, gobsmacked, before turning heel and stomping out of the store. Needless to say, we never saw her again, and I absolutely adore my manager.”
The Story Of Latte Art Guy
“I work at a chain coffee shop (not Starbucks) that is inside a hospital. One of our stores is right next to the emergency department so we get rushes all day long from doctors and patients.
There is a doctor that comes sometimes that I was warned can be a little difficult. This time I was lucky enough to be working on the machine when he came this time.
Latte Art Guy: ‘I’ll have a medium latte. With art.’
Me: ‘No problem, but I’m sorry but I’m still kind of new, so I don’t have the hang of the art yet, so I can’t do that for you this time.’
LAG: long sigh ‘That’s fine I guess, but you really need to know how to make drinks people want.’
Me: laughs ‘I will eventually!’ (What a prick)
LAG: ‘Whatever…’ sighs
I start making his drink and a few others. I start to pour the milk into his latte and he interrupts.
LAG: ‘NO! I need to taste the shot before you put the milk in!’
Me: ‘Well I’ve already started to put milk in, but I could remake it for you if you like.’
‘Please no, we’re starting to get slammed,’ I say in my head.
LAG: ‘Well of course! I told you already that I want to make sure the shot is good before you put milk.’ (He didn’t.)
I remake the shot and hand it to him to taste.
LAG: ‘It’s fine.’
I pour the milk in and by luck make some kind of design on top.
Me: ‘There you go! There’s a little whale on top! Don’t you think?’
I strain a smile from my face.
LAG: takes a sip ‘I don’t get why you can’t have consistency. Everyone makes it different!’
The snooty guy then walks off without even tipping.
He wasn’t the worst customer I’ve seen, but he was a little grumpy for someone who wants a little whimsical design on their drink. And I think everyone is going to make drinks slightly different due to variables in their style. I was left a little flabbergasted.”