moda vivendi

I'm just talking to myself. We do that sometimes, me and myself.

This One Time, at Work…

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Yesterday’s post was rather….not as witty as I had hoped.  Let’s try again, shall we?

The highlight of my day:

Some chick walks into the coffee shop where I work today.  No greeting or pleasantries.  Immediately barks at me to see the menu.  (Nevermind that I was talking to another customer.)  I hand her a paper menu and point out the chalk boards with the day’s selections and ask if she wants something to drink.  She says no and proceeds to pull from her purse a bottled Starbucks mocha drink that she undoubtedly purchased from the grocery store next to where I work.  Did I mention that I work in a *coffee shop*??  Okay, just so we’re clear on where exactly it is that I work.

A little bit later, I was talking to the customer again (okay, it was my mother, but really, this chick didn’t know my mom from Adam; I could have been talking to a high roller, which, at Affogato means you get a panini and soup.)  Interrupts my conversation for a third time.  The first two times, I was nice.  Third time…I got a little passive aggressive.  I finished listening to the customer (hi mommy!) and then said, in my sweetest voice, “Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you.  What did you want?”  She orders….wait for it….a mocha.  The same kind of drink that she brought into the shop with her before.  Almost bludgeoned her with the empty bottle.

In general, I like that place.  The regulars are cool and Victoria makes soups and panini and quiche (oh my!) from scratch. You should check it out if you’re in the Pittsburgh area.  They have free wifi, so you can read about my work escapades while I’m making you a mocha.  That you didn’t bring in from Starbucks.

Hey, in case you missed the link above, here’s another shameless plug.  Pardon me while I be unoriginal: ch-ch-check it out.


Author: Angelica Ross

Coffee addict, Post-It aficionado, Sharpie fanatic. I live and work in Pittsburgh, pin lots of recipes I'll never make, and I love the Oxford comma. Sometimes I write about advertising, other times I write about general life happenings; no matter what, I always try to entertain.

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