Bitter Barista

I think it’s pretty safe to say that most people have honesty instilled in them starting at a young age.  Whether you hear it from your parents, grandma, that special teacher, etc.,  people know that it is not just to steal and it is necessary to return things to their rightful owner.  But let me ask you this, what if you believe that the rightful owner doesn’t deserve what has been lost?  Do you have the right to play God and decide the fate of the lost item?  Initially, I think no.  I constantly fear bad karma.  But in hindsight, I now second-guess myself.

Generally, the lost and found at work consists of scarves, sunglasses, half of a pair of gloves, credit cards that have long since been canceled, surprisingly sets of keys (how do they leave the parking lot – on their brooms??).  But on one gloriously sunny day, the lost and found hit the jack pot.  Someone left a $2,000 Prada hobo bag in the cafe.  What are the odds?  How on Earth does this happen?  What catastrophe could possibly be going on that you would leave without such an expensive accessory??  Was this a test of the Golden Rule or just plain stupidity?  After seeing the license of the woman who owned this overpriced trinket, I knew the answer: stupidity.

Now I know I am no prize and should not judge others intelligence, but anyone who spends this kind of money on a purse is allowed to be labeled stupid.  Maybe ignorant is better.  With $2,000, she could help provide medication to at least fifteen people for a year who are suffering from HIV.  With $2,000, I could pay off one year of my student loans.  With $2,000 she could help feed the one in seven people who are malnourished around the world.  (Side note:  when you are procrastinating, go to www.freerice.com and help end world hunger while getting smarter).

Anyway, I am going off on one of my “I want to save the world” tangents.  Clearly this chica doesn’t seem to think these problems involve her because she is here and they are there or whatever idiotic explanation she may have.  Back to the story…

I found her license, as well as her Chanel wallet (obvi), the price tag for the bag (hence why I know the outlandish amount of money spent), and she ends up being unlisted in the phone book so I can’t be the good Samaritan that I wanted to be.  She finally calls the store five hours after the bag has been found.  Are you kidding me??  What have you been doing all this time?  Do you really go to that many places in a day that you can’t think of where you left your Prada handbag?  Gee Whiz, if only those were the biggest problems in the world!

Needless to say, she comes in to get her beloved bag (or maybe not so beloved), all giggly like, “silly me.”  Yea, silly YOU for buying that thing in the first place.  She gets her stupid sugar-free coffee and goes on her way, Prada bag on shoulder, without so much as tipping us.  I know it must be tough to part with a dollar.  I could have thrown that thing in the dumpster or claimed that it wasn’t found

But the kicker is:  the bag was hideously average – JC Penny does better.  Sucker!

The air about this woman reeks.  She wears fashionable glasses, red lipstick and has pretty cool hair, but other than that she stinks.

As a coffee slave at a very busy store, you greatly value your breaks.  It is a time to eat a muffin, find inner peace, smoke a cigarette or call someone to rant about the day thus far.  To each their own.  So when I was accosted by the aforementioned patron I was not amused.

I was sitting at the far end of the bar on the phone with my boyfriend during my break.  Let the record show that there were three other seats available besides the one next to me.

So this femme decides to take the seat closest to me and then is bold enough to ask me to move over because she is a bag lady.

Number One:  As catty as it sounds, I was here first.

Number Two:  I am on the phone (!!).

Number Three:  The bar as well as the ENTIRE cafe is empty – sit somewhere else!!

Number Four:  (Reality) – I move to the other side of the room and give her a dirty look.

Fin.

P.S. No ‘Please’ or ‘Thank You’ was uttered.

My father, who is a regular and thinks I should have quit three years ago, jokes about the fact that we need a bouncer at work.  I say, “Joke?  I don’t think so.”  If we don’t have a bouncer, I think we should at least have a trap door at the register and at the hand-off area.  How else are we to fend off the savage beasts??

I was recently told of an incident that occurred on one of my days off (thank goodness).  A woman approached the register as the conversation about a body guard was in full swing and she says something along the lines of, “Excuussse ME…I’m just TRYING to spend money in YOUR store…”  Clearly this woman was miffed that the employees didn’t stop mid-sentence to address her needs and true desires.  Their B.  I’m sure she would have asked for a shoeshine if she had been wearing her leather slingbacks. 

If that isn’t coincidental, I don’t know what is.  Good day to you ma’am.