Conversations overheard at Borders
Conversations overheard at Borders
I’ve recently taken a part-time job working in the café of my local Borders to help pay the bills. It’s an interesting experience working for less money than I’ve made anywhere since sometime my junior year of high school. The things we do in the name of art. At the very least, it’s been a welcome change from the isolation of writing and working for myself. I’ve been exposed to all kinds of interesting people. Here’s a sampling:
“This eggnog latte tastes too much like eggnog. I can get that at home. I wanted something with coffee.”
“It has espresso in it.”
“Give me a cappuccino.”
“Would you like any gift receipts or gift cards?”
“WHAT?”
“Gift cards or gift receipts?”
“I get a gift?”
“No. Gift receipts.”
“What’s that?”
“A receipt to go with a gift in case they want to return it.”
“Oh, I know what you mean. A gift certificate. The other stores tried to sell me one.”
“Um, ok.”
“WHAT?”
“Never mind.”
“I want a Frappuccino.”
“I’m sorry, we’re not Starbucks. Would you like one of our blended drinks? It’s the same as a Frappuccino.”
“I’ll have a coffee.”
“Venti latte.”
“Large?”
“No, Venti.”
“We don’t have Venti or Grande sizes. (Points to cup sizes.) Small, medium, large.”
“Medium.”