Our café is on a main street that the annual Pride parade runs through. It wouldn’t be a Pride parade without someone making THAT same boring, unoriginal comment, and this year did not disappoint. 

An older couple have been coming in every Saturday at opening time, ordering two small coffees, pouring those coffees into larger cups from home, filling them up with free cream and sugar, and sitting in the corner for hours reading on their phones and using the wifi. Whatever. 

On this day, when they look outside the window after hours of doomscrolling, they are shocked to see the crowd gathering for the parade.

Customer: “What’s going on out there?”

Me: “It’s the annual Pride parade today.”

Customer: “Oh my god. Why?! They’re always so stupid.”

I choose not to engage and look hyper-focused on wiping down the counter. And then he says those oh-so-original words.

Customer: “When do we get our straight pride?”

Me: “When it’s criminal to be straight in sixty-four countries and punishable by death in twelve of them, then we get to have one.”

Customer: “Ugh, but this is America! We already gave them equality, and they should be grateful for that. This is what happens when you have a generation raised on participation trophies. They expect everything for nothing.”

Me: “If you think about it, the concept of “straight pride” is the ultimate participation trophy. You want a reward for enjoying an orientation that just “is” instead of overcoming a challenge or achieving something.”

Customer: “I just don’t understand why they get a whole month of this s***.”

Me: “If a gay person gets beaten up for being gay and needs stitches, do you moan and say, ‘If he gets stitches, you should get stitches too’?”

Customer: “Of course not!”

Me: “So it’s only when they’re celebrating you get jealous, but when they’re being oppressed they can keep that all for themselves. Got it.”

They didn’t come back the next Saturday. Or the Saturday after that. I admit I may have gotten a bit heated in my delivery, but I wasn’t trying to scare them off. I’m not losing sleep over that I did, though.

A customer is in our little rural café on the west coast of Ireland. They’ve parked up in a rental car, walked in from the rain, and before even looking at the small menu, have started to complain about pretty much everything to the cashier.

Customer: “I can’t believe I came all this way to look at the cliffs and it’s raining!”

Cashier: “Yes, weather can be unpredictable in these parts.”

Customer: “And the road to get here! Oh my God! Tiny! How do they expect tourists to drive from Galway out here?”

The cashier has realised this guy isn’t listening, just ranting, so:

Cashier: “We’ll replace the cliffs with a nice six-lane highway for you.”

Customer: *Not listening.* “If your country cared about getting tourists here, they’d have real infrastructure in place for us!”

Cashier: “You must be exhausted carrying all that expertise around.”

Customer: “And there’s nothing to see on the way here! Just fields and more f***** fields! And then when you get here, there’s nowhere to park! All those fields, but nowhere for me to park!”

Cashier: “You seem disappointed we haven’t turned the whole country into a parking lot. Don’t worry, we’ll run your suggestions past the sheep.”

Customer: “This is not going to review well when I get home!”

Cashier: “The country’s been here longer than yours. I think it’ll survive your review.”

Customer: *Finally snapping out of it.* “Well… aren’t you going to get my order?”

Cashier: “Are… you going to tell me?!”

Customer: “Oh… have I not done that yet?”

I used to work at a kinda fancy café. We roasted our beans and sold them. People could either buy bags of beans or ground beans. A woman (with her young son, under ten years old) is looking at the bags of beans and ground beans and asks:

Customer: “Why is the ground coffee the same price as the beans?”

Me: “Well, they are both 500-gram bags, so it’s an equal amount of coffee. The only difference is one is ground, and the other isn’t.”

Customer: “Well, that’s a lie, because one bag is clearly bigger than the other!”

Me: “No, they have exactly the same amount; they weigh the same. The beans take up more space than ground beans, but it’s still the same amount of coffee.”

Customer: “You’re lying, and in front of my son, no less! It’s morally wrong for your company to trick its customers, just because they’re paying a lot for the coffee!”

Her son, who has stood silently beside her the whole time, whispers:

Son: “Mom, 500 grams is 500 grams.”

The mom points dramatically to both bags:

Customer: “Yes, but those 500 grams are more than those 500 grams! It’s a con! Now be quiet when the adults are talking!”

Son: “I’m going to remember this when I’m taking M&Ms from the big bag at home. Squishing them down means there’s less of them. Score.”

I don’t know what this family’s ‘big bag’ of M&Ms looks like, but it was apparently enough to make the mom realise how stupid she’s being, and she waves me off and walks away without another word, son in tow.

I worked in a hotel cafe that served Starbucks brand coffee and espresso, and advertised it as such.

Customer: “Grande blonde vanilla latte, almond milk, half the syrup, extra hot, and one pump of hazelnut.”

Me: “Uh, this isn’t a Starbucks, sir. Our menu is the simple one you see up there.”

Customer: “Your sign said this is a Starbucks!”

Me: “No, the sign says that our coffee uses the Starbucks brand grounds, not that we’re a Starbucks location.”

Customer: “What?! This is false advertising! I’m calling Starbucks corporate and telling them that there’s a fake Starbucks operating inside [Hotel]! They’re gonna shut you down for this!”

My friend and I are in a small and usually chill café. Some guy with earphones is talking ‘business’ loudly on his phone. He sounds obnoxious enough as it is, shouting about profit margins and making sure everyone knew that he “dealt with billions every day!” to make him sound like a bigshot. 

Having had enough, my friend turns around, taps him on the shoulder, and says:

Friend: “Should we all contribute ideas, or are you the only one invited to this meeting?”

The business guy looks my friend up and down, wisely chooses not to pick a fight with an old gal who has seen some s***, and takes the call outside. He does not come back for his untouched drink.