Well as some of you may know, among my many activities, I help my parents run a small Cuban Restaurant in the south end of town. It’s not a glamorous job and it doesn’t pay particularly well but you do get to meet a lot of… ummm… interesting people. This is actually a rather good thing for a writer (Yes, I’m damn writer. I wrote this, didn’t I?) because all these weirdos have the potential of becoming dysfunctional characters in my books, so it’s not a total loss.
Not all of the folks that drop by are amusing and interesting, however, some are just plain annoying and others downright irritating.
Among the colorful collection of annoying ones is The Mr. Coffee Entourage. Every now and then a van will park in front of our restaurant and about five or six people will emerge, a whole family of smiling tourists. You have to understand this is a beautiful sight for a restaurant owner. All he sees are happy smiling dollar bills jumping out of a car, it’s amazing. So the entire van empties and they all march into the restaurant. They look around, they see our nice color pictures on the walls showing our delicious and eclectic dishes and it’s showtime. I walk over to them, big friendly smile. I already made a mental note of where I will have them sit so they are all comfortable and how much I can expect in tips from this particular demographic sample. Regardless of this last prediction, with the kindest most welcoming voice, I greet them:
-“Welcome to our restaurant, with the best Cuban Cuisine this side of Hialeah! We’re happy to have you here! Our menus are on the table and our special today is our ever popular chicken fricassee, which is truly to die for and comes with a side order of rice, our world famous beans and your choice of sweet or green plantains. If you have room at the end, which is rather unlikely, we also have delicious homemade flans in three different varieties and our award winning homemade rice pudding, a treat worthy of the gods. So… what can I offer you today?”
-“One Cuban coffee, please.”
…
Are you f@cking kidding me? You drag half of your damn neighborhood into my restaurant to ask for a cup of coffee? Six people to order one colada? That’s just sadistic, man! You don’t build up a guy’s hope and then ask for a coffee! You can’t tip for a coffee! And if you could, what do you tip, a quarter at the most! Some of us are trying to feed our families with your financial recklessness! It’s just wrong!
It reminds me of the people that used to walk into Taco Bell, back when I worked there, and ask for a side of Sour Cream. Just a side of Sour Cream! Listen, asshole, there’s a reason it’s called a “side”! It’s supposed to go on the side of something else! Like a burrito supreme! What are you gonna do with this thing, dip your toes in it? Get some real food dammit!
But back to the Coffee Entourage. Every so often these same intellectual deficients will grab their coffee, take a few sips… “mmmm… very good…you guys make real authentic Cuban coffee, this stuff could bring Uncle Pancho back to life, I tell you!” …and then pay with a fifty dollar bill.
A fifty dollar bill! For a $1.75 cup of coffee! Do you have any idea what that does to my register? Specially if if it happens to be early in the day! “Yes, sir, thank you very much and here’s you change: two ten dollar bills, three five dollar bills, twenty two one dollar bills and every quarter we had in the register plus a few we had to steal from the gum ball machine. Have a great day! And next time you want a cup of coffee, feel free to visit your NEAREST F@CKING STARBUCKS! Bye bye now.”
Originally Published 09/02/2009