Thursday, October 9, 2008

A pound is a pound is a pound and a half.

A customer has been waiting at the counter for a minute or so as my coworker has been helping someone else. I approach the customer.
-What can I get for you?
-I need a pound and a half of Sumatra.
-Sure.
-In this bag. (Customer points to an empty one-pound bag.)
I hesitate. I look at the bag, at the man, at his pointing finger (now just a lingering image).
-So, you want it in two of these bags then?
-No, just this bag.
-So, wait, did you want a pound and a half of Sumatra then?
-Yes, in a pound bag.
Again, I hesitate.
-It will fit. I do this all the time.
(Side note: I remember the first time a customer asked for a medium latte in a small cup. This is not the same sort of situation, but I can see how perhaps he could be correct. I mean, the customer always is right, right?)
-Okay, sir.
I scoop out a pound and a half of Sumatra beans into the scale. I pick up the bag and attach it to the mouth of the scale and tip the scale into the bag. Of course, the bag is not big enough to fit the beans. If I remove the scale, the excess beans will fall. Also, I cannot dump the beans from the bag into the scale since the bag's mouth is larger than the scale's mouth. Therefore, bean spillage. This is what they call a catch-22. I stand, mouth agape, both hands captive, wondering furiously about my next plan of action. The man interrupts with...
-Why are you being so difficult? What is your problem? I've done this hundreds of times!
A small, mousy sound of nervous panic must have escaped me at some point. Then, epiphany! I shuffle, carefully, over to another scale where I can dump the contents of my two hands and start over. The man continues his endless monologue.
-Obviously, it will fit once it's ground! It always fits once you grind it!
(Side note: As a specialty coffee shop, we assume all customers want their beans whole until told otherwise. Granted, we always ask, "Would you like these whole or ground?" once the beans are in the bag. In any case, you must always put the beans in the bag before grinding or else the bag will not open properly when attached to the grinder. I promise you, it really won't. And remember, the man had never specified that he wanted his beans ground until I was held captive by the overflowing one-pound bag.)
The man does specify how he would like his coffee ground at this point, but I am so focused on the shuffling and the re-pouring that I do not hear him properly. I put the beans in the grinder. He has not stopped berating me from the beginning of this transaction. There are variations on: Why are you being so difficult, Why is this so difficult for you, They have done this hundreds of times for me, It will fit, What is your problem. Only once during this time did I respond. At some point when he asked one of his inane questions, I meekly responded, "I believed you." Seriously. And I really had. I had fully trusted that the beans would fit in the bag. He had crushed my dreams that a pound and a half of beans could fit inside a pound bag, that a customer could have such insight into the life of a lowly barista.
So, the beans are in the grinder, the one-pound bag is attached to the grinder, my confidence in the ability of the beans to fit in the bag are restored, the man is berating me, I am starting to actually get angry, and I just want to know how he wants his beans ground.
-How would you like your beans ground, sir?
-I just like them in the smaller bag. It's easier to carry. I don't see why you have to be so difficult.
-What would you like them ground for?
-I've done this hundreds of times.
-How do you want these ground?
-Flat-bottom filter.
There. Grinding. The grinds barely fit in the bag, even after the usual patting of the bag so the grinds settle. I try to close the bag. I can only fold the lip over once, meaning the bag is not fully sealed and cannot be transported easily without the coffee falling right out of the bag. I hand the man the partially-closed bag and his receipt and thank him.
My manager says, "I need to hear what happened with that dude."
I respond, "And I certainly want to tell you all about it."