We recommend a lot of business to a certain awesome local pizza shop, so usually when someone comes down and doesn't want to pay and arm and a leg for a personal pan we go ahead and give them the number.
The pizza shop really does rock. For realsies.
For serious.
Anyways. A couple of teenage boys (eh...15ish?) come down the elevator, cell phones out, and ask about what food we have. I give 'em the rundown and mention the pizza place, and they decide to order a pizza for delivery. I give them the number, and they pause texting long enough to call it (I kid you not - they texted the ENTIRE time they were talking to me, pausing several times for a long silence while they clicked away and I just kinda stood there...).
Twenty minutes or so later a chick walks in carrying their pizza and they hand her some cash. As to be expected, she hands them the change. They make no eye contact, say nothing, and start putting it away. So after several seconds of just standing there...she heads out.
THEY NEVER TIPPED HER.
There are a lot of places where tipping is ambiguous - but it's pretty damned rude not to tip your pizza delivery person. I mean...they drive their own cars for goodness sakes. That pizza probably ran five red lights to get to you hot, fresh, and on time, lovingly delivered by an underpaid pizza slave. In this pizza shop, they even still have their souls.
Yeah...really. This pizza place rocks.
Anyhoo, the kids act like she stormed off without a goodbye. I guess they were counting to make sure she gave the right change? They're offended. They're upset because THEY didn't tip HER. Ah...teenagers.
So I take my cell phone in the back and call the place to get her name. I'll drop her off a few bucks tomorrow afternoon. The folks who work there are too cool to be ripped off, even if it wasn't exactly a huge sum.
Maybe it'll make her day. :)
-Wednesday
Friday, December 31, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
50% Humidity Cappuccino, Please
I'm no barista.
I do, however, LOVE serving drinks. I like serving alcoholic drinks, I like serving non-alcoholic drinks, I love making people coffee - hell, I like pouring my fiance milk.
I dunno why.
Anyhoo, because I am no pro, I do not know everything about coffee. I sure wish I did, but alas, this padawan is not yet a coffee jedi.
So when a guest came down at 4 AM and asked me for a coffee, no, a cappuccino, NO, a WET cappuccino, I was a little lost. When I asked him what it was, which is to say, of what he wanted his coffee to consist, he said about 1/3 coffee, 1/3 milk, and 1/3 foam. I don't know what everyone else was taught, but I was under the impression that was a normal cappuccino.
So that's what I made. I made a cappuccino. 1:1:1. When I asked him what kind of milk he'd like me to use, 2 percent or skim, he said "normal."
I thought that was a little bit rude to the milk, so I pointed out that both are perfectly normal.
I think he meant whole milk.
Anyways, I had to find out what the heck a wet cappuccino was once he went back upstairs, and it turns out it's between a latte and cappuccino in amount of foam. Eh, I gave him specifically what he asked for, but in the future I'll know what people mean when they mistake me for a starfucks girl. It was still fun to make, weird as the encounter was. I rarely make capps anymore, most people want regular coffee or lattes (which I am killer good at making). Fun practice! :)
Today's LOL comes with a recipe:
Ingredients:
- 2 shots espresso
- chocolate milk, foamed lightly to mix it and steamed/rolled to temp.
Directions:
1. Combine.
2. Drink.
Mwah! Delizioso!
-Wednesday
I do, however, LOVE serving drinks. I like serving alcoholic drinks, I like serving non-alcoholic drinks, I love making people coffee - hell, I like pouring my fiance milk.
I dunno why.
Anyhoo, because I am no pro, I do not know everything about coffee. I sure wish I did, but alas, this padawan is not yet a coffee jedi.
So when a guest came down at 4 AM and asked me for a coffee, no, a cappuccino, NO, a WET cappuccino, I was a little lost. When I asked him what it was, which is to say, of what he wanted his coffee to consist, he said about 1/3 coffee, 1/3 milk, and 1/3 foam. I don't know what everyone else was taught, but I was under the impression that was a normal cappuccino.
So that's what I made. I made a cappuccino. 1:1:1. When I asked him what kind of milk he'd like me to use, 2 percent or skim, he said "normal."
I thought that was a little bit rude to the milk, so I pointed out that both are perfectly normal.
I think he meant whole milk.
Anyways, I had to find out what the heck a wet cappuccino was once he went back upstairs, and it turns out it's between a latte and cappuccino in amount of foam. Eh, I gave him specifically what he asked for, but in the future I'll know what people mean when they mistake me for a starfucks girl. It was still fun to make, weird as the encounter was. I rarely make capps anymore, most people want regular coffee or lattes (which I am killer good at making). Fun practice! :)
Today's LOL comes with a recipe:
Ingredients:
- 2 shots espresso
- chocolate milk, foamed lightly to mix it and steamed/rolled to temp.
Directions:
1. Combine.
2. Drink.
Mwah! Delizioso!
-Wednesday
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Just Wear Your Birthday Suit
Hope everyone's having a great December! It's flying by for me.
So for the most part it's quiet here at the LOL Hotel. Nothing has really been happening since Thanksgiving. Tonight, though, a man called down to the front desk to ask me where he could buy a suit. Here's about how it went:
Okay, now at this point I need to explain something. It starts out a reasonable request, but there is a severe distance in worlds here, and I believe he sensed it by the end of the conversation. It took me about 2 seconds to notice. You see, I get my business attire second hand or at the least expensive place I can find it. I am a poor lady. I am an EXTREMELY poor lady. I have never really been well off, and I've never set foot in a store selling suits to men. So far from my radar is the matter of suit stores, I have no idea whether or not they exist in this town, or what they might be called, or when in the world they might open. No clue. None at all.
Dude: Well, I suppose I could look, too (yeah, you could. but you won't)
Raise your hand if you think that question is rude! But maybe he didn't mean it in a rude way, maybe he just wants a suit and doesn't want to use the internet by himself, even though the employee very obviously can not help.
Me: My boyfriend isn't really the suit wearing type, sir. I'm really not certain. Do you want directions to Target? (No, seriously, he isn't. Nerds are immune to suits and do not want ties as gifts.)
Dude: Well, I'm not old, you know, I'm only 31, I still have plenty of life in me. (What?) Where do the cool kids go?
Raise your hand if you thought THAT was rude!
Me: I'm sorry, sir, I really don't know-
Oh shit. I know that voice, and I know that demeaning tone. I'm about 90% certain the caller is the d-bag who drunkenly chewed me out a month or two ago for not being able to pull a reservation out of my ass. It all flooded back. The condescending repetition of my name, the nonstop questioning of my experience and personal capabilities, the insinuation that I might be a 2-dimensional idiot going nowhere in life ripe to be stepped on and spoken down to...
He calls back two minutes later while I'm juggling a guy who needs a new key, a check-in, and a man who wants a cinnamon roll with icing (it only becomes busy in clumps), to ask me if there was a Macy's in the mall.
I can count the number of times I've been to this mall on my fingers and toes. I can count the number of times I've been to a Macy's on one hand. I don't know, but I go with "yes" and move on with my life.
That really wasn't an epic story or anything, it just irked me. That conversation went on minutes past when it should have. If I don't have an answer for you, and you're too lazy to problem solve one out for yourself, keeping me on the phone isn't going to make me pull a solution out of a hat. I'm truly not hiding the answer from you, waiting for you ask a certain number of times or ways.
I guess I should read up on the local shops so I know what to tell people. Usually they just ask for a pharmacy, grocery store, food joints, or bars - and I know where all of those are.
Gah. I can't shake him repeating my name over, and over, and over.
-Wednesday
(who is only poised when you're looking)
So for the most part it's quiet here at the LOL Hotel. Nothing has really been happening since Thanksgiving. Tonight, though, a man called down to the front desk to ask me where he could buy a suit. Here's about how it went:
Me: Front desk, this is Wednesday, how may I assist you?
Dude: Hi Wednesday. I made a terrible mistake and left my business suit in (city four hours away). Would you happen to know where the nearest place would be to buy a suit?
Okay, now at this point I need to explain something. It starts out a reasonable request, but there is a severe distance in worlds here, and I believe he sensed it by the end of the conversation. It took me about 2 seconds to notice. You see, I get my business attire second hand or at the least expensive place I can find it. I am a poor lady. I am an EXTREMELY poor lady. I have never really been well off, and I've never set foot in a store selling suits to men. So far from my radar is the matter of suit stores, I have no idea whether or not they exist in this town, or what they might be called, or when in the world they might open. No clue. None at all.
Me: Does it need to be a full-out suit store, or would something like W*lmart or T*rget work?
Dude: Wellll, I try to avoid W*lmart when possible. See, I need something that will be open before 9 or so. (good luck, buddy)Me: I know there's a Target down Blah, but I'm not really sure what else would be open that early.
Dude: (whose tone is beginning to grow impatient) Do you have a (store name meaningless to me) or a (also meaningless)?
Me: I'm honestly not sure, let me take a look (google to the rescue!)Dude: Well, I suppose I could look, too (yeah, you could. but you won't)
Me: I don't see either of those...
Dude: Well, where would you go to buy something for your boyfriends, Wednesday?
Raise your hand if you think that question is rude! But maybe he didn't mean it in a rude way, maybe he just wants a suit and doesn't want to use the internet by himself, even though the employee very obviously can not help.
Me: My boyfriend isn't really the suit wearing type, sir. I'm really not certain. Do you want directions to Target? (No, seriously, he isn't. Nerds are immune to suits and do not want ties as gifts.)
Dude: Well, I'm not old, you know, I'm only 31, I still have plenty of life in me. (What?) Where do the cool kids go?
Raise your hand if you thought THAT was rude!
Me: I'm sorry, sir, I really don't know-
Dude: Oh Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday...
Oh shit. I know that voice, and I know that demeaning tone. I'm about 90% certain the caller is the d-bag who drunkenly chewed me out a month or two ago for not being able to pull a reservation out of my ass. It all flooded back. The condescending repetition of my name, the nonstop questioning of my experience and personal capabilities, the insinuation that I might be a 2-dimensional idiot going nowhere in life ripe to be stepped on and spoken down to...
Dude: Wednesday, Wednesday, surely you must know some place.
Me: I'm sorry, sir, I can give you directions to Target. (I can't pull a business suit store out of my ass any more than I could a reservation password)Dude: Well, goodnight then I guess.
He calls back two minutes later while I'm juggling a guy who needs a new key, a check-in, and a man who wants a cinnamon roll with icing (it only becomes busy in clumps), to ask me if there was a Macy's in the mall.
I can count the number of times I've been to this mall on my fingers and toes. I can count the number of times I've been to a Macy's on one hand. I don't know, but I go with "yes" and move on with my life.
That really wasn't an epic story or anything, it just irked me. That conversation went on minutes past when it should have. If I don't have an answer for you, and you're too lazy to problem solve one out for yourself, keeping me on the phone isn't going to make me pull a solution out of a hat. I'm truly not hiding the answer from you, waiting for you ask a certain number of times or ways.
I guess I should read up on the local shops so I know what to tell people. Usually they just ask for a pharmacy, grocery store, food joints, or bars - and I know where all of those are.
Gah. I can't shake him repeating my name over, and over, and over.
-Wednesday
(who is only poised when you're looking)
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
This is a lame...
...excuse for a post...but it seemed like it'd been awhile. Actually I was going to write about Thanksgiving, which was epic in its weirdness, but this is just as good, right?
Maybe I'll get around to writing about Turkey Day later, but I'm half-assing everything this week in an effort to put some kind of focus into my finals (which are due tonight! Yipes!)
See ya!
-Wednesday
Maybe I'll get around to writing about Turkey Day later, but I'm half-assing everything this week in an effort to put some kind of focus into my finals (which are due tonight! Yipes!)
See ya!
-Wednesday
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