Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Again, With the Customer Service

I had a meeting this morning with a client and being that I was early - that never happens - I ran through Dunn Bros for a delicious, steaming hot, large dark roast. I drove to the Perkins on 40th Ave W and responded to a few emails while waiting for my client to arrive. Like I said, early. I hardly knew what to do with myself.

When she arrived, my coffee had just cooled to a point that I could drink it without subjecting myself to a full-mouth exfoliation. As we're being led to our booth, a male employee actually grabs my arm and physically stops me, exclaiming, "Oh ma'am! We do not allow beverages here!" I was totally shocked and started to mumble something about how it was just coffee when he literally rips the coffee cup out of my hand and tosses it on the pile of dishes in his arms as he races away, leaving me speechless.

Are you kidding me? There is no way that just happened. I was physically shaking as I walked the rest of the way to the table and sat down. The delightfully cool plate of pancakes were perfectly mediocre and I settled into my meeting with no further assaults. But my favorite part of the meal was, by far, the $2.19 carafe of brown-water that stood as the logical substitute to my delicious, expensive, worth it, large dark from DB.

As I was pulling away from the restaurant, Mr. Grabby walked in front of my truck on his way back in from the dumpster, no doubt having disposed of my illegal beverage. If I had lesser morals I'm certain I would have given in to my impulse to run that crusty old man under the tires of my truck. Dick move, man.

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