I thought I’d share a few impressions about my first few days at the coffee house. I’m a first-class barista now. Not.
Okay, so: my first two days were quite good. I have great colleagues (mostly), most of them are patient. The customers are similarly nice and patient. My third day, a Saturday, quickly turned into my personal hell, though. And I think I realized that I’m not an ‘assembly line worker.’ I prefer to do things thoroughly. Think them through. (Maybe not in this case.) But you can’t be slow on a crowded Saturday–most customers won’t care about your thoroughness. They want their coffee. Now. (Almond milk, sugar free, extra espresso shot, but with whipped cream, please. Is my coffee very hot?)
There was a moment last Saturday when I considered quitting right away. I really, really didn’t want to work there anymore. Did I do my PhD for this job? But I persevered. I returned this week and the first two days went well again. But I’m afraid of this Saturday. I certainly know more than I did last week. But I don’t think I know enough to handle a Saturday satisfactorily yet.
But I still like the working atmosphere, most of the time. Some of my colleagues are better teachers than others, but that’s natural. One of them seems to be more concerned to show off his abilities. (I like him, but that’s a character trait I don’t work well with.) Another one is super nice most of the time, but occasionally too bossy. Yet, I enjoy working with them. Most of the time, at least.
One fun fact I learned today: all the guys working there are gay. One of the women was teased: ‘your kind is dying.’ She’s heterosexual. I think I never worked in such a diverse environment. And that’s another huge plus for this job. If I survive next Saturday. Keep your fingers crossed for me, please!