A Latte Regret: My Coffee Shop Mishap
Let me preface this by saying I love coffee. I live for that first sip of silky smooth caffeine in the morning. But my love for coffee does not extend to ordering it over the phone. Oh no, my friends. That way lies madness, miscommunication, and enough second-hand embarrassment to fuel a rocket to the moon.
It all started innocently enough. I was running late for work (shocker, I know) and desperately needed my caffeine fix. Figuring I’d save time, I decided to call ahead and pick up my order on the way. “Easy peasy,” I thought, dialing the number of my usual coffee shop. Little did I know, this was the beginning of the Great Phone Number Debacle.
The Case of the Muffled Microphone (and My Order)
The barista answered with a cheery, “Good morning! [Coffee Shop Name], what can I get for you?”
I launched into my order: “Hi! I’d like a medium latte with oat milk and…” Here, my voice was swallowed by the abyss that is my handbag. I’m convinced there’s a black hole in there, sucking in all sound and loose change.
“Hello? Hellooo?” I fished my phone out, contorting my face in a way that would make a Picasso painting look symmetrical.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, “Can I start again? Medium latte, oat milk, and…” This time, it was the barista’s turn to disappear into the void. A chorus of muffled voices and coffee machine hisses filled the silence.
