The Barista, The Karen, and The Caramel Cappuccino

Do you know what a barista’s worst nightmare is? A mediocre cup of coffee or a slippery spill onto the coffee-stained linoleum floor.

Wrong a barista’s worst nightmare is a Karen. You know the whole stereotypical middle-aged women who wears her hair in a bob and threatens to call everyone’s manager. They continuously bombard me with threats because apparently, I didn't make their coffee right.

Most of the time I just laugh it off, but sometimes I keep myself up at night trying to understand their complaints. Unfortunately, the reality is that Karens aren't going anywhere so I'm just going to have to learn to deal with them.

But this is one of the only issues I have with being a barista. I love absolutely every other part of the job. The smell of coffee that lingers on your clothes for the whole day. Flipping the closed sign on the door to open in the morning. The satisfaction of creating a perfectly cone-shaped whipped topping on top of a fancy beverage. Honestly being a barista is more than a job than for me it’s a destiny.

The morning of the whole ‘’Karen’’ fiasco started out like any other. My alarm clock seated on my bedside table started blaring at 5:00 in the morning jolting me out of my peaceful dreams.

Another fun fact most of the time I do dream about coffee. I jumped out of bed flinging my blankets off myself and excitedly welcoming the new day. I grabbed my green apron, hat, and a hair clip and headed out to my car.

I ran my fingers through my long brown hair and pulled it up into a bun on my head. My customers affectionately refer to this as the ‘’ mother of all man buns.’’ Well do you want hair in your coffee or not, I always ask defending my man bun. 

It was pouring rain that morning and water droplets pelted down onto my windshield creating a very satisfying sound. Then with a whoosh, the windshield wipers came and cleared the glass, like tractors cutting through the hay. I turned up the radio and jammed to my favourite pop song trying to convince myself I wasn't that tired. Note to self never drink too much caffeine before bed you will not sleep.

When I arrived at the shop, I grabbed a black baseball hat out of my trunk and used it to protect my perfectly symmetrical bun. I ran into the shop as the rain dribbled off me after colliding with my skin. The droplets twisted and turned as they dripped down my face each following a path of its own.

I grabbed the handle of the shop door and abruptly pulled it open. I greeted my coworker and made some small talk about the weather. Then it was time to get to business, I had a reputation of being the best barista in town that I needed to uphold. not trying to be pretentious or arrogant but my coffee is AMAZING!

I tied my apron which was easier said than done. My hands positioned behind my back struggled to tie the wet strands of green fabric.

Then the shop door was opened and in stepped our first two customers of the day. I quickly took their orders and made their drinks. Then in stepped Karen. Her bleached blond hair was covering her face making her head appear very circular and her cheeks chubby somewhat resembling a chipmunk. Can you tell I am not a fan of bobs?

She waltzed up to the front counter as though she was someone of very high importance and not just a middle-aged woman with bleached blond hair and fake nails. ''I’ll have two caramel cappuccinos,'' she said to me. ‘’Alright, that will be 9.99 ma’am,’’ I automatically answered. ‘’Can I have a name, please?’’ ‘’Karen,’’ she replied.

‘’Of course,’’ I mumbled under my breath. ‘’Did you say something?’’ she asked with a glare. ‘’Oh, I was just going to say that’s a very pretty name, ma’am.’’ Snickering under my breath I walked over to begin making the coffees before she could respond, yell, or threaten to call my manager.

Karen walked over to a table to wait and started chatting to one of the other customers. Obviously, I had to eavesdrop a least a little bit this is a Karen were talking about.

‘’How long did you have to wait for your coffee?’’ she asked the other customer in her normal stereotypical Karen voice. It is somewhat of a mix of yelling, crying, and a facial expression that looked something like extreme constipation.

‘’I don’t know maybe five minutes why?’’ the other customer asked. ‘’I just feel like theses baristas are being rather slow today other coffee shops I’ve been to have been much more efficient.’’

I love when people refer to me as a barista it is much nicer than saying (middle-aged hippie with a bun who makes coffee.) When I finished making her order she snatched them out of my hand and said ''well it took you long enough.''

''Listen sometimes it’s not the end of the world to wait for some coffee,' The other customer said. My eyes silently thanked her. Karen took one sip of her drink and ran to the nearest trashcan to spit it out. Might I add that she spit in the most uncivilized way that one possibly could.

''This is way too sweet.'' ''Um well, you did order one of the sweetest drinks on the menu,'' the other customer said defending me. ''None of your business I wasn’t talking to you, ma'am,'' Karen snapped.

''Now young man, I would like a full refund your name your manager's name and your corporate number.'' ''Uh, how about I just remake your coffee with a little less sugar?'' I asked biting down hard on my tongue so I wouldn't burst out laughing.

''No, do as I told you I don't want any more of your cappuccinos.'' I have never heard anyone say the word cappuccino with such a negative connotation, I thought.

So I did as she told me to get her to leave the store before we had a real problem on our hands. She walked out of the store angrily swinging the door open. ''Don't let the door hit you in the butt!'' My coworker said smiling.

Karen marched out of the store and into the parking lot with her high heels clicking. In my mind, I was picturing her heels braking and her falling onto the pavement then preceding to run inside and threaten to sue as for an unsafe parking lot.

But unfortunately, that didn't happen but it's still fun to fantasize. Instead, Karen walked up to the other customer who was also in the parking lot. From my viewpoint, they seemed to be having a confrontation.

''Oh, a Karen and a parking lot fight I have to record this,'' I said. I walked over to one of the side windows and peered out with my iPhone camera pointed towards the action.

''You have no right to go around treating people like that'' the woman said. ''Well, maybe you should mind your business.'' ''Put away your phone you have no right to record me,'' Karen said. ''Um, this is public property and you are acting like a lunatic so.'' ''I do not give you my consent to videotape me!'' Karen insisted.

The other woman walked into her car and began to drive away but now Karen was trying to get a picture of her license plate. ''You better move or I might run you over,'' the woman warned. ''Good luck with that,'' Karen sneered.

''Get out of the way!!'' the woman screamed driving away and simutaneously flipping up her middle finger at Karen. Who in my mind greatly deserved it. I can not even begin to describe the look Karen gave the woman after she did that.

Ah good old Karens, I thought taking a sip of the coffee I had just prepared for myself later that evening. Might I add that it was the perfect sweetness.