Tag Archives: Mountain Trolls

Dare-rell’s Debit Debacle

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.


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.

Daynah’s Environmental Disaster

Hello y’all. I hope everyone had a good week, and for those of you that celebrated it, a wonderful Chinese New Year. It’s Monday, which means, I procrastinated and didn’t get a post to you yesterday night. Unfortunately, the opportunity to re-watch Trevor Noah slay the stand-up game was too good of one to pass up, hence why you’re getting this post today. Apologies.

Today’s post features Daynah, a woman who makes you wish mute buttons actually worked in real life.

First Encounter:

I first meet Daynah over the phone. It’s 4:45 in the morning, the store has yet to open, and I am setting up the pastry display when the phone begins to ring incessantly. As I answer it, the customer on the line (who later gives her name as Daynah) begins demanding I set aside a box of our “gingerbread square things.”

Given that we don’t sell those, I was particularly confused.

“Sorry,” I say. “We don’t sell gingerbread squares. We do have gingerbread loaves – ”

“NO!” she shouts, cutting me off. “I don’t want gingerbread loaves. It’s a box of gingerbread somethings.”

“The gingerbread cookies?” I suggested.

She grunted in annoyance. “I can’t believe you don’t know what I’m talking about. The box of squares with gingerbread you can buy and share with a lot of people?”

Already annoyed at her rudeness and impatience, I took a wild guess. “The berry bars?” I suggested.

YES! THOSE!” She shouts in exasperated triumph.

Let’s just stop there. There’s absolutely no correlation between gingerbread and berries. How do you even mix those things up? Those are TWO DIFFERENT THINGS and do not sound REMOTELY the same. At all.

She tells me to hold a box for her and informs me that she will be coming by in a few minutes to pick it up.

Seeing Daynah:

Ten minutes after hanging up with Daynah, she walks into the store.

For those of you that have worked in service or retail before, this is the customer that has the “I need to speak to a manager” face permanently plastered on. With scraggly brown hair, plastic red-rimmed glasses, a naturally frowning mouth, and a witch-like nose, I knew the moment I laid eyes on Daynah that our encounter would be unpleasant.

I was right.

“Hi, I called in earlier about the gingerbread squares,” she says to me.

“Yeah. I’ve got them here, the berry bars.” I replied.

“Whatever,” she retorts and waves her hand in annoyance.

I ring in the bars and ask her if she wants anything else. She nods, and tells me she’s getting a coffee.

Then she opens her mouth.

“I’m getting a 1/3 decaf, nonfat, half sweet, no foam, no whip, extra sprinkles, cinnamon latte.”

Repressing the urge to roll my eyes, I write down her order and head over to the bar to make it. I prompt the debit machine for her before I leave, and inform her she can pay.

As I’m halfway from finishing her drink, she requests that I place her “latte” (if we’re going to call this concoction a latte), into one of the reusable cups we sell. However, considering I have nearly finished her drink and have poured the milk halfway into the cup already, it seems rather moot to put the latte into a reusable cup and have to throw out the paper one.

In the same instant that she is asking I place her drink into a reusable cup, she begins to lecture me about the use of paper cups.

“I just disagree with your store policy about paper cups. I hate paper cups. That’s why I buy so many reusable cups.”

A) Did I ask for your life story? No. No I did not.
B) She may have bought a lot of reusable cups, but she sure as heck has not been using them, especially since she walked in that morning without one.

I get it. I hate that my store does not yet use compostable paper cups. I hate that our waste is so high. I go through our recycling and compost bins when it is not busy to make sure people are properly throwing their trash and waste away into the proper corresponding bags. BUT. How self-unaware can you be to reach this level of idiocy?

At the end of her lecture, she realizes that I have finished making her drink, and decides against getting the reusable cup.

“It’s pointless now anyway. You’ve already put my latte in the garbage cup.”

If you have such a moral objection to our store… WHY ARE YOU HERE? GO HOME! I sure as heck didn’t want to start my shift off with a long-ass lecture from a hypocritical customer.

Since Daynah seems to dislike coming into my store so much, I expect to never see her again.


Daynah Won’t Go:

I see her twice that same week. Both times, I get the same exact lecture about environmental responsibility. Both times, she grabs a plastic cup of water, downs it, and proceeds to throw it into the garbage.

Our cups are number five plastics. They’re recyclable.

One day, she lectures my co-worker about our cup policy, I interrupt to tell her that our plastic cups are recyclable.

“So?” She snorts.
“Well, you’ve been throwing your water cup in the garbage, so I just thought I would let you know.” I reply.
“Whatever. Your paper cups are still not compostable. So I don’t agree with your cup policy. You guys should be ashamed of yourselves.”

Then she leaves the store in a huff.

I see her again that week. Just. Ugh. *pinches bridge of nose.*


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