I head towards the counter at the Starbucks around the corner from my house. It's a balmy tuesday morning and i just want some coffee to start my day off right. The line is about three people long and i find myself slightly irritated, even though i know that these people are here for the same reason as me. A blonde woman of medium height and build is at the counter, her face hued a slight pink from what i assume is the cold. But opon closer inspection i find she is in the midst of an argument with a porterly barista about the quality of her coffee.
"Listen," the woman sighs with her head in her hand and a look of exasperastion on her face, "i just want to drink a decent coffee. You gave me this and there was some thing floating in it. I just want a replacement." its obvious she isnt having a good morning and this whole situation is just making everything worse.
The barista gives her one of those, I could care less about your propblems, look "I would love to refund you for your troubles miss" he says with sarcasm practicaly dripping from his tongue "but store policy says i cant because we have no way of knowing if you just put that there." the barista makes a motion towards the slightly anxious customer behind the woman.
she steps in front, it's apparent that she really wants this refund "There was &*%! floating in my coffee and if i could buy another coffee i would, but I don't have much money right now so i want this coffee." she is starting to become more and more frantic, as if this coffee was something of incredible importance to her. "Please" she breathes heavily, "can you just get me another"
The barista tells her no in a slightly sassy and rather rude way and i can tell the woman is close to tears now. I start to realise that she wasnt just having a bad morning, she was having a horrible morning and this coffee was on its way to throwing her into depression. The simplest things can sometimes hurt the worst and i want to step in and help her out, pay for a new drink possibly, but for some reason i can't find the courage to speak up. For some reason i can't stand in front of this woman's oppressive depression towards something i probably have never experianced. i can't bring myself to try and make her feel better because im scared of making things worse. i fear if i play my hand in her life and problems i might get sucked in, i might actually help her, and then the next time she needs my help i wont be there, and she wont be able to handle it.
now she's mostly in tears begging the barista to let her have just one coffee, and he looks confused and lost but his manager is probably watching and this is probably his only job so he can't really afford to help her out. he tries get her to leave in an attempt to calm the now frantic situation but she's crying now, and customers are leaving, and the people in line are debating whether its worth it to wait it out or just find another coffee shop.
She finally picks herself up and drops her unedible coffe into the trash with a look of discust and a sniffle, and with one last hatefull look back at the barista, she heads out the door. not a word was said about what just happened with the people inside, and the next customer just tries to act like nothing happened.
And its funny how the simplest of things, like buying a coffee on a cold morning, can just send you over the edge. sometimes its not the initial shock thats the worst, its the little things that happen afterwards, that chip at your mental armor until you finally realize what happened. i dont even know what the initial shock was for that woman. Probably a death in the family, or debt problems, or something like that. she probably was able to keep it all locked up before this tuesday morning. but for whatever reason these events just set her over the edge. and there was nothing she could do. but there was something i could do. i don't know why i didnt help her.
"Listen," the woman sighs with her head in her hand and a look of exasperastion on her face, "i just want to drink a decent coffee. You gave me this and there was some thing floating in it. I just want a replacement." its obvious she isnt having a good morning and this whole situation is just making everything worse.
The barista gives her one of those, I could care less about your propblems, look "I would love to refund you for your troubles miss" he says with sarcasm practicaly dripping from his tongue "but store policy says i cant because we have no way of knowing if you just put that there." the barista makes a motion towards the slightly anxious customer behind the woman.
she steps in front, it's apparent that she really wants this refund "There was &*%! floating in my coffee and if i could buy another coffee i would, but I don't have much money right now so i want this coffee." she is starting to become more and more frantic, as if this coffee was something of incredible importance to her. "Please" she breathes heavily, "can you just get me another"
The barista tells her no in a slightly sassy and rather rude way and i can tell the woman is close to tears now. I start to realise that she wasnt just having a bad morning, she was having a horrible morning and this coffee was on its way to throwing her into depression. The simplest things can sometimes hurt the worst and i want to step in and help her out, pay for a new drink possibly, but for some reason i can't find the courage to speak up. For some reason i can't stand in front of this woman's oppressive depression towards something i probably have never experianced. i can't bring myself to try and make her feel better because im scared of making things worse. i fear if i play my hand in her life and problems i might get sucked in, i might actually help her, and then the next time she needs my help i wont be there, and she wont be able to handle it.
now she's mostly in tears begging the barista to let her have just one coffee, and he looks confused and lost but his manager is probably watching and this is probably his only job so he can't really afford to help her out. he tries get her to leave in an attempt to calm the now frantic situation but she's crying now, and customers are leaving, and the people in line are debating whether its worth it to wait it out or just find another coffee shop.
She finally picks herself up and drops her unedible coffe into the trash with a look of discust and a sniffle, and with one last hatefull look back at the barista, she heads out the door. not a word was said about what just happened with the people inside, and the next customer just tries to act like nothing happened.
And its funny how the simplest of things, like buying a coffee on a cold morning, can just send you over the edge. sometimes its not the initial shock thats the worst, its the little things that happen afterwards, that chip at your mental armor until you finally realize what happened. i dont even know what the initial shock was for that woman. Probably a death in the family, or debt problems, or something like that. she probably was able to keep it all locked up before this tuesday morning. but for whatever reason these events just set her over the edge. and there was nothing she could do. but there was something i could do. i don't know why i didnt help her.