Miss Woodhouse's Musings

…about life, the universe, and everything. Don't panic!

The Things We Say

Starbucks baristas are funny. Maybe not always “give me a microphone and I’ll do stand up” funny, but still pretty funny. What’s more important is that we crack each other up. So, I thought that I’d share a few of my favourite gems that stand the test of time!

Customer 1: (after giving a long and complicated order for other people from a post it note) “And I need a venti latte. Can you just throw a packet of artificial sweetener in there for me too?”

Barista 1: “Sure. Venti- one artificial sweetener- latte.”

Barista 2: “Would you like to ask the customer if they want pink, yellow, or blue?”

Barista 1: “Can’t it be barista’s choice?”

Barista 2: “No.”


Barista 1: (Excitedly) “Yay! I have time to restock merchandise before I have to clock off!”

Barista 2: (Rolls eyes) “Some little town in the Midwest is missing a cheerleader.”


Barista 1: “Sir, would you like room for cream in your croissant?”

Barista 2: “No, but I bet they’d like room for cream in their coffee.”


Barista 1: “I was so automated after years at the drive-through, that at Thanksgiving my Grandma asked me to pray and without thinking I started with, ‘Dear God, thank you for choosing Starbucks how can I help you today?’.”

Those are just some of the funniest that don’t need any explanation. One day I’ll post a few that need some extensive set-ups. Until then; happy weekend!

Vincent Via


The Craziness at the Bottom of the Coffee Cup

Our store opened on an April 1st. In a way, I think that this explains the most fully just why we are insane. I frequently refer to our store as the biggest April Fool’s Day joke, and no one really argues with me. We, in short, are mad as March hatters…hares…hatters…oh, nevermind.

We’re crazy.

So are the customers.

So is the company.

Need proof? Oh, I can help with that! Let’s start on the partner level. Here are some of the crazy things we do!

Got Coffee?

First, I should explain what you are looking at. If your store has a warming oven, then you might have noticed that there’s a trash bin underneath, neatly hidden behind a drawer. The theory is that you put a large trash bag into the metal bin, and only use it for the paper and plastic waste associated with warming up sandwiches and pastries.

However, our store is crazy. Apparently, this particular day not only did someone decide to forgo the trash bag (issue #1), but they, for some unknown, mysterious purpose, decided to then dump a pound of coffee beans in the drawer.


Yeah, not sure why.

What you may not be able to see is that this drawer is about 16 inches deep and 24 inches wide. This was no picnic to clean up- in fact, three of us just stood there for a good two minutes staring at, well, this.

Yeah. Moving on!

We love celebrations. We also love having a hierarchy of seniority. Since most of our store’s partners have been with the company 4+ years, this is usually based on age.

I was the youngest for a brief moment in time; now, there’s a partner younger than I! Yay! Thing is, it drives him nuts that I’m older, and that our birthdays are only 3 days apart (and that mine comes before his!). So, weeks beforehand we took over the main whiteboard, and this was the result (he’s a talented artist!):

The only problem is that this board is in full view of the customers…and we put our birthday messages up a month before the events took place. For some weird reason, this really confused the customers. Can’t imagine why….

Because, let’s face it: our customers are crazy too! We absolutely adore their crazy selves, and wouldn’t have it any other way. For example, look at how they tip us:


We know who did a few of them, but several of them just randomly showed up!

More Stor-o-gami!

See? They are nuts!

Okay, now we really start to have some fun! I feel that I must preface these remarks by assuring you, dear readers, that I have full permission to use this on the blog. I asked permission. Three times. In front of witnesses.


Among our amazing regular customers, we have these two men that come in every day/night. One of them is a motion graphics artist, Steve. Jim works with the Census. He’s also quite talented in Kenjutsu. When I remember, I call him Sensei.

After this latest escapade, we have a new nickname for him; but there I go getting ahead of myself again!

They’ve become quite good buddies over the past few months, and when the two of them put their heads together…well it scares me just a lot. Suffice it to say that for a certain reason, Sensei is teaching Steve the art of Kenjutsu. At Starbucks. Right beside our store. In full view of all baristas, customers, and the highway that runs beside the store.

Did I get video of the first lesson? But of course! Enjoy!

I’m really proud of myself that you can barely hear me giggling. However, after seeing the videos Mum decided that we needed to call them Obi-Jim and Luke. I might have fallen on the floor laughing at that; but there’s no proof of that.

Speaking of proof, let’s wrap this up! For my last exhibit, I’d like to present proof that corporate is as nutty as we are. Ladies and gentlemen of the blog jury, I present Exhibit A:

There's got to be a better way to say this....

Okay, let’s not even talk about how “Until” lost its “i”. I’m sure that it’s a painful story with no bearing on this case. However, I do have to wonder exactly how we are supposed to follow these directions. I mean, I understand the intent, but they are asking the impossible. There is no way to take a loaf of lemon pound cake and instantly thaw it.

These directions are physically impossible. The defence rests!

Well, I think that’s quite enough fun for one post. Until next time, stay cool. No, I mean it! You aren’t allowed to thaw yet!!!


The Answer

I know, I know, I’m late posting today! So sorry; life, doncha know.

So, there I was this morning trying to think about what the theme for today’s Friday Frame-Up should be. Then, I remembered that it’s my coworker’s birthday. Now, all my coworkers are special in their own way, but this one has one extremely notable distinction: she speaks “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.” Yes, it’s pretty awesome.

Now, I’m a huge Hitchhiker fan. If you haven’t noticed, then you should read my blog header…and then you should read the books or see the movie. Seriously. I’ll wait here while you educate yourself; otherwise the rest of this post won’t make much sense.

Back to the birthday barista.

We ask each other on shift if we know where our towels are. She understands what “I never could get the hang of Thursdays” means. She even answers my questions with “42”!

May 25th (wow, seems forever ago!)  was “Towel Day”, and we brought our towels into work (I even wrapped mine around my anthology of Hitchhikers). Interestingly enough, the fridges seemed to be celebrating Towel Day as well. Every time I looked at the readouts, this was what they said:

Yeah, it was pretty cool!

Anyway, that’s enough Hitchhiker talk and randomness from me tonight. So long and thanks for all the fish!

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The Extra Mile

Every Starbucks has at least one person like her. She says she’s homeless, she tells us that she lives with her goddaughters. She comes in to the store while she waits for the bus. The situation is enough to touch your heartstrings.

Until you are around for a while. Then, you begin to see a few disturbing things. She begs customers for money (something that we must forbid on Starbucks property, and she has been told many times that soliciting customers for money is not allowed). Then, she comes up to the registers and asks us for free pastries and free coffee. Not just asks, but begs. Then, she takes the money she begged from the customers (for coffee) and takes it to buy cigarettes and lottery tickets. I’m not in any position to judge her life, but it is off-putting and disturbing to people who don’t like seeing their niceness used for a different purpose than they intended.

We really, really want to help her. Deep down, we all want to be generous. Unfortunately, it’s one of those situations where if you do one nice thing, then she expects more and more and more and more.

We haven’t seen her in a while, but the other day she came back. Instantly, she started in on us. First, she targeted me (she is good at figuring out who is the newest and least experienced). I’ve no authority to give out free merchandise, so I passed it off to my shift.

I’m a coward, I know.

My shift is a wonderful, soft-hearted, giving person. However, she knows the history and trends even better than I. She offered to look in our donation bin for some nice pastries, but that was all she could really do. My shift returned with several slices of coffee cake from the night before, neatly wrapped up.

The woman thanked her profusely, and went to sit down in a comfy chair. Coincidently, this chair was next to the table of the only other person sitting in the cafe. He’s a regular, and we figured he was safe from her begging seeing as how he was deeply embroiled in a cellphone conversation.

Within 5 seconds, the woman called across the cafe to my shift, asking for a plate and fork. My dear shift grabbed the requested items, and took them across the cafe to her.

Less than 20 seconds later, the man at the table gets up and comes to the counter, still on his cellphone. He usually comes in with a woman, so we assume that he’s getting ready to order her drink. He stares at the board for a minute, obviously perusing his options. Then, he orders a grande latte.

As any good barista should do, my shift asked if he wanted any flavouring in it. He shrugged at us, gave a little smile, and quietly said that he was getting for the woman in the chair.

My shift and I weren’t quite sure how to react. On one hand, it was really sweet of this guy to buy her a drink. On the other hand, 20 seconds to get a guy on a cellphone to buy her a pricey drink had to be a new record. We look at each other for a moment, and then shrug. My shift gets the milk steaming. I go back to mopping the floors. The customer looks at me, and holds out a $5 bill.

Here’s where I make my decision: if the customer wants to be nice, I’ll let him be nice. However, I’m not going to charge him for the drink. I smile at him and shake my head; I’d take care of it later when I got my food for my 30. He smiles back, then frowns a little. He continues to stand there.

I go back to scrubbing mats. My shift finishes the drink, and hands it to him. He once again tries to pay, but she tells him “no” as well.

Sweet man, he honestly wouldn’t take our no as an answer. He stood there insisting on paying until we rung him up. Then, he patiently fixed her drink up with sugar according to her specifications. Specifications, I might add, that she yelled at him from across the cafe. He even came back up a minute later to get her a spoon because she wanted one to “drink” her latte.

She left a little while later, leaving her plate, spoon, fork, and empty cup littered around the cafe. I never did hear her thank him for his care and consideration.

However, it blew me away. It was a sweet gesture, done quietly and without show. Not only did he reach out to this woman, but he did more than the minimum required by the situation. He could have gotten a tall; he bought a grande. He could have gotten plain coffee; he bought her first latte ever. He could have accepted our refusal to let him pay; but he paid anyway. He totally amazed me that day.

Our customers are, hands down, the best in the world.

I wish I could be more like that at work. I wish that I didn’t have to filter situations through a more jaded screen. I have no problem doing “x”, but I know that should I do “x”, next time there will be a loud demand for “x+y”. The next time, “x+y+z”, and so it goes.

But this one man, he’s not there enough to risk seeing her again for a long time. He reached out and touched her life that day, and I can only hope and pray that it made a difference to her.

It certainly had an impact on me.


What Lies Beneath

Last night at work I went to my sarcastic place.

I’m not proud of that fact. While a sarcastic me is a funny me, and my coworkers appreciate the laughs, it doesn’t leave me feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. However, last night I found myself pushed to the edge of my reserves, and I had two choices:

1. Be as silly, goofy, funny, and witty as I could muster at short notice, or

2. Burst into tears.

I think I speak for all when I say that humour-ish statements were preferable to tears. Besides, I had already been crying earlier in the night. Now, allow me to explain. In the almost two years I’ve worked at Starbucks, I’ve only been brought to the point of tears three times (this is a pretty good record):

1. By a former coworker who would be awful mean to me when we were working alone, but sweet and wonderful if any other coworker was around. *rolls eyes* It got reeeaaallllyyy old.

2. By a customer’s story of the death of their parent. Sad, sad, sweet story.

3. Tonight. Enough said.

Now, I’m a Christian. For some of you, I’m sure you involuntarily shuddered at that statement. Christians often have a stigma attached to them: aloof, condescending, self-righteous, holier-than-thou. I hope that I am not like that. I strive to not be like that.

However, the people that came in tonight were, sadly, acting like that. The thing is, I have a history with these people outside of the store. I’m not just some random barista, they aren’t just some random fellow Christian people. We know each other. I do my best to treat them well; I call them by name, ask about their lives, and am just generally friendly to them. Friendly, even though I know what the outcome is going to be, how they are going to treat me. Not that they are horrible, but they aren’t exactly nice either. Last night it was too much for some reason. It hurt. I ended up in the back room trying to wipe away traces of tears.

Would someone remind me why I wear mascara to work?

So, like I said before, I went to my sarcastic place. I really, really hate that about myself. I hate that their poor behaviour impacted me so much that I felt the need to alter my behaviour. That’s not good, healthy, or right.

Earlier yesterday we held our first meeting for a 40 minute Kay Arthur Bible Study. The topic is “Living Like You Belong to God“, and the key idea of the study is that of “holiness.” My favourite university Bible teacher describes holiness as “being set aside for special use.” It’s not that there’s anything inherently different about something holy from something that isn’t; rather, it’s mainly how this thing is used.

These people tonight decided to not act holy. That’s fine; it’s their decision to make.

I, however, don’t think that I ultimately responded in a holy manner. Not that I was mean to them or anything like that, but I allowed my hurt at their behaviour to turn into biting humour later on.


No one is perfect, right?

So, that’s one of my goals for the summer. I’m going to take what I learn in that study and work on not letting other’s behaviour influence mine. By the end of the summer, I hope to be able to just shrug off customer issues and keep on keeping on. I’ll keep you all posted on how it goes! As my new manager says, “It is what it is.”

Until then, let me leave you with this thought: 6 months until Christmas!

Yeah, coworkers and customers weren’t overly thrilled with this news either. Peace; out….


Sunday At Starbucks

It all started with getting up at 8:30 am on Father’s Day. Wait, let’s have a little more background first.

I’m not an overly complicated person; I simply know how I like things. Sometimes this means that I do things myself, so that they are done correctly. Other times, it means that I have to leave my final destination in the hands of others and navigate them as clearly and simply as is humanly possible.

Too, I’d like to preface my remarks with the acknowledgement that Sunday mornings at Starbucks can be horrendous. I’m aware of this fact, and always adjust my expectations accordingly. However, I’m also a good judge of what is busy, normal, and slow. Just so we’re clear.

Now, let’s try this again:

It all started with getting up at 8:30 am on Father’s Day. Dad’s choice for lunch was Olive Garden, which opens at 11 am. Thus, in order to get in at the first seating, we had to go to early service. (To be honest, Dad is an early bird who would always prefer to go to 9 am church. Mum and I are night owls. We compromise. Late service it is! But I digress….) So, I’m up early, dressed, make-up on, and I think I even found my right mind! It was a little Father’s Day miracle.

Church was wonderful. The great news is that we were finished with service by 10:15. The bad news is that we were done by 10:15. Olive Garden, if you remember, opens at 11. What to do, what to do?

Oh. How about running to Starbucks?

Hurt me.

So, off we toddle to the nearest Starbucks. Allow me to stress that THIS IS NOT MY STARBUCKS. We good? Okay!

Three of us have traditional orders: Iced Grande Sweetened Green Tea. Tall Vanilla Bean Frappuccino. Iced Venti No Classic Dark Cherry Green Tea Lemonade (it sounds harder than it is). Only one order requires any sort of special attention, so we started there. I needed to mark out 1/2 pound of Three Region Coffee before my benefit expired Sunday night. I’m here, let’s do it now. So, I grab my 1/2 pound and join my family in line.

Okay, this is not my Starbucks. However, I’m in here enough that all the baristas are (or should be, at least) familiar with me. Besides, my family is standing together as a group. Four of us. Just keep that in mind for later.

It’s our turn to order, and I take the ordering/paying lead for several reasons:

1. I’m the barista; it’s literally my job.

2. I’ve got the discount numbers.

3. It’s Father’s Day- no way Dad is paying for our drinks!

First things first. I hand my 1/2 pound to the barista (after smiling and saying hi), and tell her that it’s my markout. Once that’s taken care of, I ask her if she’d be willing to grind it (which they should offer anyway), and if she would brew me a pourover- tall in a grande cup.

For future reference, I’m looking to receive the middle-sized cup containing only the amount of liquid that would fit in the cup to the left. That’s what “tall in a grande” means. The cup to the right is called “venti.” There’s your barista lesson for the day! Oh, and remember what a venti looks like, okay?

Here’s where the visit begins to go awry:

Snag 1: This barista’s worked for the company longer than I have, and she looked at me blankly. Pour over? How does that go again? She looks at her shift, and asks him how to grind and measure for a pour over.

Snag 2: He looks at her as if she’s grown 3 heads. Pour over? Paper filter?

At this point I jump in: you grind for a cone filter. Ahhhhhhh; faces clear up, concern vanishes- this is doable!

Snag 3: Barista comes back. Do I know how much coffee to use? But of course.

Then she disappears. The shift disappears. She reappears. My coffee (bag and brewed) does not. Okay, we’ll give it some time. She hits total. I say I have more drinks. She takes my first drink order. She hits total. I tell her there are more drinks. She takes my next drink order. She hits total. I tell her there’s another drink order (anyone else remember that my family of four was with me? Okay, good.). She disappears. Shift reappears. Other baristas are bustling around. New barista comes on to the floor. My barista is still missing. Customers look at me like I’m the reason the line isn’t moving. I’ve my money in hand; where’s my barista?

Finally, she returns with cups. Crisis averted; I pay.

Vanilla Bean Frappuccino up!

Iced Sweetened Green Tea up!

Iced Dark Cherry Green Tea Lemonade up!






No 3 Region- bag or brew. Shift won’t make eye contact. Register barista won’t make eye contact.






I mozy to the other end of the bar, and visually locate their pour over. There’s the 3 Region; it’s done brewing, all ready to go. Two steps behind the counter, and it could be mine! But I’m nicer than that. I continue to wait for my coffee.







Now, granted there was a steady stream of customers, but nothing this store can’t handle. For goodness sake, our store could handle this level of business with 2 people, and they have 6!

Still, I wait patiently (in view of the baristas in hopes of giving a visual cue to them.)







I finally give up. I go over to the family’s table, slump over, and beg Dad to go ask for the brewed coffee. He comes back with….





a full Venti. Pop quiz: does anyone here remember what I requested? Yes, that’s right; a tall in a grande cup.


I’m angry at this point. Incensed. All I wanted was a little bit of coffee brewed, coffee which I provided. Did they listen? They did not.

I still don’t have my 1/2 pound of coffee back.

We sit for a while in the cafe, because believe it or not we did still have a bit of time left to kill. As we left, I went over (business is dead now), and asked the barista if I could get the rest of my markout that they didn’t brew. She blinks; she doesn’t know where it went.

I ask the shift; he looks at me like I’m trying to cheat the company. Ummm, he guesses that would be okay. (Remember, this is MY coffee benefit that I earned, paid for with MY numbers. I’m really not cheating at all- the coffee belongs to ME.) He pours the ground coffee into my bag, and I finally escape.


Very, very annoyed.

This is the kind of Starbucks experience that gives Starbucks a bad name; this is what some people think of when they hear the word “barista.”

It’s sad, to say the least. No star skills were showing ; there wasn’t even the common courtesy of assuming that a fellow partner knows what she’s talking about when she asks for a certain brew. Lest you all think that I was being a pain, allow me to remind you that nothing here was complicated: they chose to make it complicated. I think I was nice too; I waited patiently, I tipped them, and I used my best manners. I even complimented them on their hand-drawn signage.

So, sheesh.

I’d like to take a minute to personally apologise to anyone for whom this is a “typical” Starbucks experience. If I found it frustrating (and I understand Starbucks), how much more maddening must it be for you all?

There’s a simple solution here: everyone in the world should come to my Starbucks when I’m working. I’ll treat you all correctly!


“Free Wifi”

Scene: Starbucks

Time: Inconvenient

Characters: Barista (me), Random Person, Laptop, Starbucks Card

Setting: Cafe is fullish, there are several customers waiting for their drinks.

RP: *walks into the store with laptop bag. Finds a table, drags three chairs into the “perfect position”, sits down. Pulls out laptop. Does not make purchase. Turns on laptop. Does not make purchase. Opens web browser. Does not make purchase. Attempts to load a webpage. Does not make purchase. Fails to load a webpage. Does not make purchase. Attempts once more to load a webpage. Does not make purchase. Discovers AT&T login screen. Does not make purchase. Tries to log-in and fails. Does not make purchase. Approaches register. Does not make purchase.*

Barista: Hi there, can we help you today?

RP: Yeah, what’s the deal with your wifi? Do I, like, need a code or something?

Barista: It’s actually kept a paid service here. You can purchase a pass from AT&T using a credit card, or you can load a Starbucks card with $5, register it in-store (this takes only 2 minutes), and get 2 free hours of wifi a day.

RP: So it’s not free?

Barista: Technically no, but if you do the Starbucks card option, that money is still yours to spend here at the store so you aren’t actually paying for the wifi. It’s like getting it for free, plus getting the other Starbucks card reward benefits.

RP: *Returns to table, slams laptop closed, walks out. Does not make purchase.*

***End Scene***

I’m not exaggerating (much) when I say that this scene plays out in our cafe at least twice a shift- sometimes more often. There is a massive outcry from customers for Starbucks to provide free wifi, but I think it’s a bad idea. Here are a few reasons why I think Starbucks should never go to limitless, free wifi:

1. It’s a marketing gimmick to get people to stay longer at your store. Starbucks already has a solid base of homesteaders; we don’t need anymore people setting up camp. When we have a cafe full of free-loading computer geeks, then our regulars don’t have anywhere to sit. Let’s face it; we *heart* our regulars.

2. It’s expensive to pay for high-quality, limitless wifi. Should this happen, quality is going to drop and people will be complaining about that instead of price. At least now you have little chance of being kick off the network.

3. We will lose a LOT of business should we go to free wifi. People won’t ever feel like making a purchase, and they will keep our paying regulars from having a “third place” environment.

There you have it, my thoughts on free, limitless wifi. What are yours; good, bad, helpful, harmful? Leave your thoughts in the comments!


You Can Count On Me

I don’t know where you all live, but in my country there’s currently this thing called a “Census” going on. Every 10 years the Constitution makes provision for the government to count the people. There’s various reasons why this is good, there’s been a lot of debate recently about how this can also be bad, but you all know this blog:

I don’t really care about what others are saying concerning the Census.

There’s a good reason for this. I don’t know how the Census people are operating in your district, but in ours they are doing their work in local restaurants. Panera, Chick-fil-a, Ruby Tuesdays, and Starbucks (just to name a few) are being invaded with small teams of people determined to count up those around them. Armed with envelops, clipboards, forms, badges, and pens, these intrepid worker-bees are systematically tallying the results of their field work and pulling them together into a comprehensive account of the crazy number of people that live around me.

Besides, they are a ton of fun.

Every night we know who will be taking over the cafe. They are clean, they are quiet, they purchase drinks, they talk to us about crazy and random things. They are nice to the other regular customers, they have registered Starbucks cards , and occasionally they ask us to make up a crazy drink for them. Usually I take my breaks in the back room, but lately I’ve been taking my breaks in the cafe, learning about the Census process and getting to know these people. They can talk on any point: science, math, books, pop culture, entertainment, current events. They make me laugh.

They would have been finished two weeks ago, but thankfully they unearthed 750 addresses that were not originally put into their files. So, they’re still around and will be here for at least another week. Things have been rough at the store, and having them around makes it feel like a coffee shop again. We know their likes and dislikes, they know our areas of interest. Every time we see them it’s like a continuation of the conversation we started the last time, and when we part ways we know that the conversation will pick right back up where it left off. So thanks, Census people, for choosing our Starbucks as your headquarters. You can count on us for anything.

Oh wait, that’s right, you’ve already counted us. Well, carry on!



This Tuesday was the official rollout of Starbucks’ new however-you-want-it frappuccino. Many customers have asked us just what is different about the new process, so here we go!

The old recipe used to be 3 steps: dispense based (creme or coffee), add in syrups, add in ice and blend. The only problem was that we were pretty much limited when it came to special dietary needs. We couldn’t use soy or be vegan, for example. So, Starbucks broke it down for us.

If you want coffee, we put that in first- we can even make it decaf! Then, we put in any milk you want: soy, non-fat, 1%, 2%, whole, breve, heavy whipping cream, anything! If you want flavouring we put that in next- any syrup, any add-ins, any combination. The last ingredient we put in is the magic; it’s a thick binding liquid that gives it that great consistency and frappuccino taste.

Okay, now for the fun stuff! Because our normal store artist wasn’t working the night before rollout, yours truly had the opportunity to do the store’s main chalkboard. That’s right- my first promo board! My District Manager even complimented our Store Manager on it.

Here are some of the first pictures- I’m hoping to get some better ones of the updated board. Yes, I tweaked. How could I not?

I’ll post some more pictures soon!

So, now to the explanation of this blog title. Starting yesterday, and running through May 16th, you can come in from 3-5 pm and get any frappuccino in any size for half off! Mum and Dad came in to visit during “happy hour” and Dad called it, “frappy hour.” Now, it stuck (and it’s part of the improvements I made to the board).

As a last note, we have new coffee gear! We love our cute, new, blue aprons (pic of that to come too). However, the wrist bands are a little puzzling. In case you have sane baristas who refuse to wear them, here’s what they look like.

There’s no consensus as to why we have these. They are a health hazard, being so close to so many contaminates. We’ve compiled a list of possible reasons for the wrist bands. Let’s have some fun and try a poll: why do you think that Starbucks gave us these wristbands? Pick your top three, or suggest your own ideas!

Well, that’s all from me for now- I’ll be back with more pictures and stories of this crazy week very soon. Stay tuned, and thanks for reading!

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Everything Glorious

Recently I’ve had the words of David*Crowder*Band’s song “Everything Glorious” running through my head. Specifically, I’ve been hearing the part of the song where they ask God that if He makes everything glorious, “what does that make me?”.

It’s a question that’s been running through my head this week, especially at work. Every day we see a stream of people, never stopping, never ending. Overworked and overtired, it’s far too easy to become frustrated with the customers who are rude and difficult to please. Yes, I know you don’t like milk in your cappuccino. No, the reason your drink looks like that is because I did shake the soy. Yes, I do know how to make a caramel frappucino. Yes, I’d be glad to make you a new drink because you didn’t know what you were ordering. It’s like the demands and questioning of my abilities never end.

Sometimes I feel wracked with guilt that I find myself frustrated. God made these people glorious; what right do I have to be annoyed over their search for the perfect drink? I should just love them, accommodate them as best I can, and not let them bother me.

However, just when the guilt becomes unbearable, I remember that I’m a part of God’s creation as well. That means that He made me glorious too! I don’t have to mindlessly submit to their tyrannies, putting up and shutting up. Not that I should be mean to anyone, but I really should stop mentally beating myself up because these customers aren’t happy with me giving my best.

Gloriousness is a two way street. If you want people to treat you like you’re special, you have to remember to treat others well too.

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