Another Sunday, another soul-shriveling customer to share with y’all.

Today, I introduce you to Dare-rell, a man completely incapable of using his own debit card and blames others for his own ineptitudes.

In comparison to some of the other foul humans that have graced this blog, Dare-rell isn’t all that bad. Sure, he’s a pleasant man (I think). He smiles rather than scowls, never gets mad if we run out of his preferred type of coffee, and can make okay small-talk.

His biggest problem is that he just can’t seem to use his debit card. He holds up lines and sometimes yells at you because he can’t read instructions or remember his own pin.

Maybe he’s afraid of the debit machine. Maybe he’s just dumb. Who knows?

Interacting with him is a whole lot of wanting to hit your face with your own hand out of exasperation.

When I first meet Dare-rell…

the encounter is rather insignificant. He orders his medium coffee, informs me he is paying with his debit card, and goes about attempting to do so. Unfortunately, he pulls his card out the moment the machine tells him “Do not remove card.” Assuming he is just a little too excited to leave and drink his coffee, I prompt the machine again.

He does the exact same thing.

Sighing internally, I tell him to leave his card in. He (thankfully) listens to me, and merrily goes off on his way.

That’s the end of that, I thought.

Wrong.

When Dare-rell returns again the following week…

I expect things to be different. He orders a medium coffee, adds a medium latte, and then gestures to the debit machine so he can pay. He inserts his card with the confidence of a man who knows how to use it – he can’t.

Again, he pulls his card out too early and the piercing sounds of a machine beeping in protest alert me of his blunder. By then though, he has already walked off into the crowd, heading towards the condiment stand to pour some milk into his coffee.

I attempt to flag him down and get his payment, but he had left the store.

*deep sigh* 

The next time I see Dare-rell,

He still has not mastered using his debit card. He gestures to pay, inserts his card into the machine and accidentally (maybe? I’m not a mind-reader people) punches the red button that cancels the transaction.

I inform him that the payment has not gone through because he hit the red button. He vehemently disagrees with me, stating that he has paid, and refuses to be double-charged.

I print out the receipt for him, showing him that the transaction as indeed not gone through.

He huffs in annoyance, inserts his card again, and repeats the mistake. I tell him again, that he needs to be pressing the green button and then entering his pin. I suggest to him that he make use of the tap function on his card.

He glares at me and replies: “I know how to use my card, thanks.”

The passive-aggressiveness in his reply annoys me, but I say nothing. I prompt the machine again, watching carefully as he dithers between the two coloured buttons at the bottom of the machine.

Finally, he hits the green.

Congratulations, idiot, you can press a button after three tries. Great. The transaction goes through, and he exits the store, leaving behind a long line.

When I next hear of Dare-Rell,

He has just made Miranda (my co-worker) suffer. She is taking is order, prompts the machine for him and watches as he struggles to, once again, pay for his coffee.

After multiple attempts to enter his pin, Dare-rell gets frustrated and tells Miranda off, blaming her for his card troubles.

She informs him that she is not interfering with his payment and suggests he use the tap function. After all, he has been repeatedly entering his pin incorrectly and pulling his card out too early.

“You need to know your own card,” she tells him frankly.

There is a long line brewing behind him, but Dare-rell pays it no heed, instead, he raises his voice at Miranda. After finally paying, he angrily informs her: “I’m never coming back here again!”

I mean… that’s not the worse thing if he never comes back. I’d be standing at the door, smiling widely and waving BUH-BYE!

 

Alas, I see him the next day.

My manager, who finally found herself some motivational action, took his card from him and taps it for him as he is about to enter his blasted debit card into the machine.

She tells him that this method is much easier.

He nods.

AND JUST. LIKE. THAT. He learns how to use the tap function on his card. Something that I and my co-workers have informed him of MULTIPLE TIMES.

The post Dare-rell’s Debit Debacle appeared first on Beleaguered Barista.