That's right, I volunteered with the brown stuff, and no, not shit although it tastes like it.
What a day it was. A crash course in not dropping hot things, pressing buttons and making foamy milk. Turns out making the milk-foam-thing is quite scary. Might have something to do with the fact that anything hot - which is neither a cup of tea or a radiator - is dangerous and should be avoided. Not a useful attitude when working in a coffee shop.
What a day it was. A crash course in not dropping hot things, pressing buttons and making foamy milk. Turns out making the milk-foam-thing is quite scary. Might have something to do with the fact that anything hot - which is neither a cup of tea or a radiator - is dangerous and should be avoided. Not a useful attitude when working in a coffee shop.
It started off rather boring, as most introductions do, whilst they settled into the idea of someone new being there. I then had to go stay awake for the part where they start from the beginning, as if you were 5 years old. So finally after all that jazz, I could get on with the business of making coffee!
At this point I should probably remind you that I hate coffee, and believe me, I've tried to like it. I've been to every chain, tried every type, with and without white chocolate awesomeness. I have no idea of the difference between them; I call them all 'crappa-lappa-frappa-chinos'. And that worked for me. What I did know, however, was the double espresso; as it was a very traumatic experience for me, and the taste will be forever etched into my mind. It shall never be drunk again. Yet now, as if by magic, I can make cappuccinos, little-shots-from-hell, Americanos, mochachinos, flat whites and continental triple-layer lattes. Check me and my bad self out.
At this point I should probably remind you that I hate coffee, and believe me, I've tried to like it. I've been to every chain, tried every type, with and without white chocolate awesomeness. I have no idea of the difference between them; I call them all 'crappa-lappa-frappa-chinos'. And that worked for me. What I did know, however, was the double espresso; as it was a very traumatic experience for me, and the taste will be forever etched into my mind. It shall never be drunk again. Yet now, as if by magic, I can make cappuccinos, little-shots-from-hell, Americanos, mochachinos, flat whites and continental triple-layer lattes. Check me and my bad self out.
I'm a true sales woman at heart, especially if I like the product. They had some homemade flapjack bites and they were fantastic, so I made it my mission to tell everyone they were. Nearly sold out of them within the first two hours. One man said he didn't want any more, because he'd 'get fat'. He was already fat, so I said 'don't you mean fat-er?' I knew he'd laugh because I'm 'fat' too. We're allowed to joke about it. His noticeably smaller friend looked as if I'd slapped him in the face. 'Calm down' I reassured him, 'you weren't supposed to get it'. Such a nice way to earn a £2 tip.
Turns out they weren't homemade; unless you consider Asda to be your kitchen.
Turns out they weren't homemade; unless you consider Asda to be your kitchen.
No comments:
Post a Comment