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  • Writer's pictureLeah Jones

Customers.

I have a number of regulars and very few of them have names to me. I mean, they’ve told me their names, but I forgot and now I am too embarassed to ask. Instead, I greet them with a very friendly hello and just start chatting. This has always happened–at Coffee Grounds, Olde Tymers, and now at The Shop.

Instead of names, they are each known by their order or a characteristic. I’d like to tell you about some of them.

Latte Professor: He was a customer at Coffee Grounds. He was not allowed to order his drink, because he would mess it up and then be upset that I served him what he asked for and not what he wanted. By the end of the summer, we had it down. Did he want one or two and did he want them hot or iced.

The Muffin Man: He comes daily for a coffee and a muffin. He stays on top of the news by a number of listserves and shares new information with us every day.

The Mumbler: An older man who comes in to say hello everyday. He has the menu prices memorized and is constantly trying to figure out if the special is really a deal or not, what was the special the day before, how we calculate prices, and what our personal schedules are. Because he mumbles and rambles, he can be very difficult to serve.


Ice Tea and Lemons: A tall man at Olde Tymers who was a “texas tipper” and we all fought not to have his table. He was very tall, like a basketball player. He drank a gallon of iced tea and wanted a fresh lemon with every refill. He would litter the table with lemon rinds and equal packets, expect us to refill his glass every other minute and then leave a “texas tip.” (If you haven’t waited tables in colorado, you may not know that a texas tipper is a BAD TIPPER.) It didn’t matter what we did to manage his mess making, he would make one everytime.

The Pepsi Guys: Two men would come in every week and order Pepsi. We serve Coke. “Is coke ok?” “Last week we got pepsi.” “That’s impossible, we only serve coke.” I liked the Pepsi Guys, but the other waitresses hated having the table. They never admitted they were regulars, so I couldn’t anticipate their order of potato skins or two pepsis, I mean Cokes.

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