10 reasons why your barista hates you
Your barista hates you. We're sure that became clear the first time you ordered a no-foam latte and didn't tip, but it's worth repeating. Since Hot Dish cares about your well-being and wants to foster healthy relationships between you and the people you deal with in the service industry, we've compiled a list of reasons why your barista would rather eat glass than see your face. This is your chance to learn from mistakes!
10. Because you spill milk and honey all over the creamer station and don't clean it up.
We're not sure if you knew this, but honey is sticky. When you spill it all over the table and try to clean it up with a dry napkin, the napkin sticks to the honey like feathers to tar. Pouring creamer on the mess doesn't make it much better, but, hell, you've already gone this far. While you're at it, be sure to drop your straw wrapper in the spilled creamer, pour half your sugar in your drink and the other half on the table, and defecate on the floor. We're more than happy to clean up after you.
9. Because you and your four friends order four different kinds of smoothies while we're dealing with lines out the door.
We know it's sweltering outside and coffee blended with ice and powdered chocolate shit sounds like heaven in your mouth, but it's crazy busy and you've chosen the most time-consuming and obnoxious drink on the menu. The fact that our blended drinks are kind of gross and contain God-knows-how-many ingredients is less concerning to us than how long it takes to wash the blender. Do us all a favor and stick with Starbucks Frappuccinos -- they're the only reason we have these blended atrocities on our menus in the first place.
8. Because you have no idea what you're ordering and then yell at us about it when it's not what you wanted.
Hmm, the macchiato has a nice Italian ring to it, doesn't it? When you placed your order, we warned you that it wasn't the same sugary nightmare that Starbucks blasphemously refers to as a macchiato, but did you listen? Of course not. You wordlessly watched us pull your double shot, whip up a dollop of foam, and gently spoon it on top of your shots. As soon as we handed you the drink, you stuck your tongue towards the bitter center, turned up your nose, and handed it right back. "What the hell is this?" We told you what it was. You insisted on ordering it anyway. This. Is. Not. Starbucks.