Friday, September 28, 2007

Education Debate on The Brew; MilkyWay Greenbacks

So...yeah. It's been a while. And I didn't blog. Sorry.

But a debate has begun on The Brew on traditional vs. non-traditional education. The first article by Luke Raad, was posted earlier this week. The second article, by Trent Starnes, was posted today. Each author will also be writing a rebuttal to the other's article. Watch for it and for my 'education' article.

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So I'm part of a writing group at my church. I wrote a little short story for it that turned out like this:

“Hey, Rob. What’s going on?” John asked as one the store’s star employees walked in.

“Not much,” Rob said, taking a nostalgic look around the coffee shop, like he would never see it again. “Who’s working this morning?”

“You, me, Jose and Toni,” John said.

“Awesome,” Rob said, relieved. Neither of the managers were working this morning. He dropped his stuff off in the back and put on his brown apron that featured their company’s logo at chest level. He clocked in and walked behind the counter.

“Hey, could I just work the bar this morning?” Rob asked.

John thought silently for a minute and said, “Sure. Why not?”

“Sweet, thanks a bunch.” Rob thought for a moment. “I kinda just feel like making drinks this morning.”

“Sure, no prob. Hey, so what are you going to do with that new inheritance you just got?”

“Well, I’m not too sure, yet,” Rob said. “I might take some time off to figure it all out. Maybe travel a little.” He paused. “I might just make it up as I go.”

The next hour passed as the other employees came into work and took their spots at the registers. The morning rush customers began to flow in, looking like zombies out of some bad ‘50s horror movie.

The employees at the registers began calling drinks to Rob, who wrote drinks down and prepared the syrups for John, who also had taken a spot at the espresso bar.

Rob saw one customer whom he particularly could not stand walk into the store and get in line. She was more than a little overweight and made a large fuss to insure that her drink was made with skim milk but also insisted that there was extra whip cream on top. This customer soon reached the register.

“Welcome to MilkyWayGreenbacks’s Coffee,” the person at the register greete the woman. “How are you today?”

“Fine,” the woman said impatiently.

“Could I interest you in a delicious chocolate peanut butter almond muffin this morning?”

“No,” the woman said curtly.

“Okay,” the employee said, trained to be unfazed by any amount of unpleasantness. “Well how about a pound of our new Palpitations Roas..?”

“No,” the woman said, cutting him off. She turned to Rob and said, “Large, skim, caramel, almond white mocha with a dome lid and extra, extra whipped cream.”

“Large, Who-Am-I-Kidding’ White Mocha,” Rob called back to confirm that he had received the order.

Time didn’t stop when Rob called out this nickname for the drink because time doesn’t stop for coffee-hungry customers during the morning rush hour and a half. A slight pause was felt by everyone in the small store. Some customers in the back of the line snickered to themselves or chuckled with their associates who were in line with them.

John chuckled, but then shot Rob a look between steaming milk and topping cups with whipped cream and lids.

“Excuse me?!” the woman belted out to Rob.

“I’m sorry, maam,” Rob said. “But you’re not kidding anyone when you get that drink. You might was well shove a couple Snickers down your throat.”

“Well, I never!” she responded.

“Well, maam, it looks like you do pretty often.”

“Hey, you know better than that,” John said. “I know I don’t have to tell you about customer service.”

“You don’t,” Rob said. “I’m being truthful in my customer service. I care about this woman so I don’t want her to go on thinking that her drink is anywhere near healthy.”

A young man in a nice business suit was next. “Medium skim, sugar-free vanilla latte,” was called out.

“Medium Soccer Mom,” Rob called back.

“What?!” the man yelled out.

“This drink must be for your wife, right?” Rob responded. “Next?”

The line kept moving because people didn’t have time to stop and talk to this punk kid who was probably taking grad classes at some art institute. Time waited for no man, especially at a coffee shop. All the customers had to get to work on time and their coffee was the one thing that would help them do so. And besides, there were plenty of other MilkyWayGreenbacks around the city. There was no reason to come back to this one, especially if that non-conformist lackey worked here.

“Are you crazy?” John said. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“You guys couldn’t survive this rush without a fourth person here,” Rob retorted.

“Why are you doing this?” John asked.

They were interrupted with another drink: “Large, half-soy, half skim, two pump almond, three pump mocha with organic whipped cream latte.”

“Large schizo-tree-hugger latte,” Rob called back.

“I think people should appreciate the people who help them through their days,” Rob said to John. “Anyone in the service industry is taken for granted so often these days. I mean, what would happen if coffee chain employees weren’t paid to act like they care about customers?”

The normal coffee shop din continued as the effeminate man who wanted the organic whipped cream stood dumbstruck at Rob’s audacity. Cash drawers opened and closed; milk swished and splattered in the steaming pitchers; whipped cream canisters sputtered as they spat out creamy goodness. The shocked customer was passive aggressively shoved out of the way by the next customer in line, who was already barking out a drink order. There wasn’t time for customers to respond.

Another drink was called out: “Large seven shot latte.”

“Large crackhead latte,” Rob called back.

Audible gasps could be heard in the cafĂ©, namely that of the slender woman who ordered the drink. “What did you call me?” the woman shouted at Rob.

But the next drink was already called out and other customers were pressing in from behind the woman, forcing her away from the registers and Rob.

“Now that’s it,” said John. “No more drink calling for you. You’re doing the milk and drink hand off station. Now!”

Rob obeyed with a smile, satisfied with himself.

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