Blogging is so much easier when you have something else you should be doing. Right now, I should be working on running my own business, so I choose to blog about how someone else runs theirs.
In Homer, there are almost as many coffee shops as there are bars and churches, but I have a couple favorites. One of them is on that short list because of their tasty and quickly-served sandwiches. However, the owner of said shop can throw down quite an obstacle course for you to put money in his pocket. From just the last week, here are my examples:
Monday, at 7am, I stopped in to fill my travel mug with brew on my way to work. At around 1pm on the same day, I walked into the same coffee shop to order a sandwich. The owner took one look at me and growled: "There are other businesses in this town you could give your support to." In a rare moment of thinking on my feet, I replied: "I come here for the friendly customer service."
On Friday, at about 7:15am, I walked in and ordered a breakfast sandwich. The owner, who was manning the counter, growled, "No food orders! I'm working alone. Coffee only!" If you have ever had your heart and mind set on a delicious breakfast sandwich in the wee hours of the groggy morn, you will understand why this nearly brought me to tears. I was the only customer in the shop. I just stared pathetically across the counter and said nothing until the bell jingled on the opening door behind me. A friendly, chipper, non-breakfast sandwich-needing voice said, "Hey Steph! How are you this morning?"
"He won't make me a breakfast sandwich!" I wailed to my friend.
The grey-haired ponytail on the other side of the counter softened. "Well, I'll make you a sandwich, but you'll have to wait." Gleeful, I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down.
While he assembled my sandwich, he growled for all to hear: "You can make these at home. You just get some toast, put some eggs in the microwave, add cheese.... this is something you could do yourself."
When the next customer clanged the bell on the door as she walked in, I was halfway through my sandwich. She stepped up to the counter and said, "I'll have a coffee and a breakfast sandwich on a jalapeño bagel."
"No food orders! Only coffee!" he shouted, louder than necessary to communicate with someone 3 feet away. She pointed across the room at me. "Steph has a sandwich." Grumbling, he walked over to the kitchen and got out the bagels, proving, once again, that if you cajole enough, you can get people to take your money.
Now, if only someone would walk into my work and start whining for floatplane service, maybe I could get something done.
In Homer, there are almost as many coffee shops as there are bars and churches, but I have a couple favorites. One of them is on that short list because of their tasty and quickly-served sandwiches. However, the owner of said shop can throw down quite an obstacle course for you to put money in his pocket. From just the last week, here are my examples:
Monday, at 7am, I stopped in to fill my travel mug with brew on my way to work. At around 1pm on the same day, I walked into the same coffee shop to order a sandwich. The owner took one look at me and growled: "There are other businesses in this town you could give your support to." In a rare moment of thinking on my feet, I replied: "I come here for the friendly customer service."On Friday, at about 7:15am, I walked in and ordered a breakfast sandwich. The owner, who was manning the counter, growled, "No food orders! I'm working alone. Coffee only!" If you have ever had your heart and mind set on a delicious breakfast sandwich in the wee hours of the groggy morn, you will understand why this nearly brought me to tears. I was the only customer in the shop. I just stared pathetically across the counter and said nothing until the bell jingled on the opening door behind me. A friendly, chipper, non-breakfast sandwich-needing voice said, "Hey Steph! How are you this morning?"
"He won't make me a breakfast sandwich!" I wailed to my friend.
The grey-haired ponytail on the other side of the counter softened. "Well, I'll make you a sandwich, but you'll have to wait." Gleeful, I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down.
While he assembled my sandwich, he growled for all to hear: "You can make these at home. You just get some toast, put some eggs in the microwave, add cheese.... this is something you could do yourself."
When the next customer clanged the bell on the door as she walked in, I was halfway through my sandwich. She stepped up to the counter and said, "I'll have a coffee and a breakfast sandwich on a jalapeño bagel."
"No food orders! Only coffee!" he shouted, louder than necessary to communicate with someone 3 feet away. She pointed across the room at me. "Steph has a sandwich." Grumbling, he walked over to the kitchen and got out the bagels, proving, once again, that if you cajole enough, you can get people to take your money.
Now, if only someone would walk into my work and start whining for floatplane service, maybe I could get something done.
3 comments:
The owners sound Argentinian. Fly your plane to Lake Washington, Seattle in June. We miss you!!!
Wendel! :)
I remember him saying, "You could get your asses out of bed and make these yourselves." I actually like that kind of service better, because to me being pissed off seems more genuine.
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