I seriously cannot believe the (pardon the term) USELESS DRIVEL that comes from a certain co-worker's mouth. I feel my brain melt and my eardrums pop every time he opens it. Looking at him makes my sight go dim, and I begin to slide towards the floor.

He is a new guy (this will be his third week), and he is an idiot. I had him pegged from the first hour as an idiot, and I am slightly proud to say he has not failed my diagnosis of his intelligence.

I am curious at how much skill it takes to make a coffee. I work for a small Dunkin Donuts store. We have no drive thru and a steady but small customer base. We are located in a gas station. I picked up on almost everything my first week (which I am sad to say was two years ago), but he...he just....I can't even find words to say what he is.

A woman today ordered a medium coffee coolatta. I know her--she comes in at least once a day. CJ asks her what she wants. She orders her coolatta. He gets the cup (a medium, give the boy a point!) and puts the dairy in it. Two points. He then proceeds to ask her if she wants the vanilla or the chocolate.

WHAT?!

HAS HE LEARNED NOTHING IN THREE WEEKS?
VANILLA?????

I calmly (which for me is really not so calmly, as I swear under my breath in French and various other languages) explain that the brown one is COFFEE and the white one is NEUTRAL. NOT vanilla and chocolate. He says "whatever."

Automatically minus both points.

The customer turns to me and says, "Please, could you make it right, and make it the right colour?" I did, of course, as CJ had put something, not the cream she asked for, but I can only assume skim milk based on the colour, in the drink. She paid and went to the convenience portion of the store. I was talking with my friend Robynne over the counter, and as the woman left she told me, "Good luck. Really, you seem to need some."

Then to top it all off, CJ did not sanitize the mixing blade. When I "calmly" mentioned as much, again he said, "Whatever." Now he is in the negative points. Tsk, tsk.

It gets better, truly. Bear with me.

I had clocked out. I was counting our tips out (I wish I had given him none!), and a girl asked for a coffee. He made it correctly (for once) but has to go and open his mouth:

"What with global warming and all, we need to charge you extra. I just work here, so...sorry."

I turned to my husband, who was waiting for me, and said, "Please tell me such idiocy did not just come out of his mouth?" Alas, but my husband could not lie. I felt like crying. The customer, however, giggled. Ew. That is NOT the end, though.

No, the next girl in line ordered a hot chocolate. We had been out of cocoa all day, but our truck had just left, so we had it. He even stood there and listened to me read off the order. He knew we had it.

Apparently his memory is failing, and h's only 26. He says to the girl, "We don't have any hot chocolate." I turn to him and say, "Yes we do, the truck just came, remember?" And what do you think was his answer?

No, it wasn't his typical "whatever" or his other favourite, "Uou're not my mother," but the most ridiculous line yet: "But it's way over there."

I hauled off and gave him such a verbal beating. I didn't care that the customer heard me. I said: "So go get the fucking chocolate, fill the bloody machine, and get her the damn cocoa!" (Yes, I actually said fucking. In front of the customer. Oops.)

She looked at him and said: "You know what, I don't want it, you idiot. I'll go to the other store." Kudos to her, more negative points to him. Since his first day, he's been batting in the negative thousands now.

Then one of my favourite customers came in, a sweet old lady that lets me borrow books to read. She said, "I don't want you touching my latte. I want Christine." Since I was off the clock I couldn't, but I did get Noelle, who is a wonderful assistant manager.

"I made it exactly as you said to last time." CJ says to her.
"No, you didn't. Whatever you did to it yesterday tasted downright vile," was her kudo-riffic reply.

And this was all just today. Maybe I will add an installment. First, I will write about the PREVIOUS DAYS. Next, I will write about the current day. The boy is full of idiocy. Sometimes it can be amusing, other times I want to rip his bloody fucking head off.

Side Note: His fingernails are longer than the other assistant manager's, and she gets those fake French tips done. That is just downright creepy-nasty.