I was a bad girl

I've been bad and I need to confess. First of all, I haven't been blogging lately which is disrespectful to all you devoted fans out there (ha ha). Secondly, I was late for work today an dI still feel ashamed about it. I just don't do that. It didn't end up affecting the shift so much, and the supervisor on duty was someone who has been late for my shifts a million times, but still you know? Also, one of my lovely male co-workers did try to hook up with me a couple nights ago, and I'm still in that strange bewildered state where I don't know how to react. We worked together on Saturday (cinco de mayo, anyone?) and after work we went to the bar to get wasted, which we did quite successfully! We were talking about random, boring relationship stuff. He, well Sam, has a girlfriend who he cheats on relentlessly and I tried my best to give him proper advicxe on how to break up with someone. I'll admit that getting tipsy can bring out my flirtatious side, so I may have been asking for it the whole time, but there came a point after the 7th or 8th beer where I could tell he was thinking that we'd be gettin it on soon. He's attractive and there's definitely some chemistry but I simply could not go along with his advances. It became extremely awkward when we hit another bar and ran into a co-worker, Dave, who immediately began casting suspicious glances my way as it was obvious at that time in the drunken evening that we were wasted and flirting. Dave knows that Sam is a man-slut. Well, everyone knows. Sam used to hook up with Jane and as far as I know he sleeps with different girls all the time. So Dave sees the two of us together and knows that something must be going on. So I take him outside for a smoke and tell him I know what it looks like, but I swear it's innocent. We come back and Sam, getting drunker by the minute, starts getting possessive over me and putting his arm around me and I just didn't know what to do. The most amusing part was when we were sitting around the table, and Dave and Sam were taking turns texting me all secretively. Dave would write "come on, let's get out of here you don't want to put up with Sam anymore, do you?" and two seconds later I'd get a message from Sam, "you're beautiful. hook up with me." How charming. But then all of a sudden Sam got a message from some chick he screws on occasion and he ran off into the evening to get some ass elsewhere. So that was that. Now my inbox is flooded with apologetic messages from Sam. I guess he's embarassed. I would be too, but he doesn't know my past. If anyone can forgive drunken sluttiness, it's me.

No more poopy.

I only chose that title for this entry because I want everyone to know that I will no longer clean up dookie at work. I write that here in this blog that no one will ever read, but I know that it's not true. Unfortunately, one of the shitty (pun intended duh) aspects of this job is that I really have no choice in the matter when it comes to poop. If it's there have to clean it up. I get mad though, when I'm, supervising and someone else on the shift has been assigned the job of cleaning the bathrooms (we have to do it once during every shift) and they go in, come out two seconds later and tell me that there's shit everywhere, expecting me to then absorb the task of scrubbing it off the walls just because I'm in charge of the shift. It seems strange that I have enough experience with this sort of thing to merit me even writing about it, but I can assure you that I deal with a shitty bathroom at least a couple times every month. Our cafe's pretty large I think. We have three fucking bathrooms. We serve coffee!! Some people just use our bathrooms for their morning shit. They don't even buy coffee. I know a couple of the garbage guys do it. I guess that's okay. At least they work hard and have to smell far shittier things than I do all day. But then there are some customers who come in every day to get coffee and take a huge smelly dump. I see them and I know that if I could just get up the nerve to refuse them service one morning, then maybe their bowels wouldn't be prompted to explode so soon in a place where I have to clean it up/. I mean, come on guys, save it for the office!! There is this story that I have that involves more dookie than you can shake a stick at. I've been waiting for the perfect time to write about it. I have to be in a specific mood, and I have to be awake and coherent enough to write it well so that you'll feel just an ounce of my pain.
I'll give you a little taste- this guy one time crapped all over the bathroom and spread it on the walls and mirror and sink with his hands (which he didn't wash afterwards just so you know). He was drunk and it was at nighttime. I hate him. We had to call the police. I'll tell you more juicy stuff some other time. love dani

MTV thinks we're boring!

Well folks, sorry to dissappoint, but it looks like you won't be seeing any of Cafe Nasty on the small screen anytime soon. I honestly am a little disappointed. It would've been fun to watch some of my lamer co-workers duke it out over random, stupid things. Now that Jane is gone, so is a lot of the in-store drama, so the excitement level has been taken down several notches since those producers were milling about a couple months ago.
I still have theatrical hopes for our cafe though. I want to make an espresso training movie with a couple of the other coffee trainers at the store. I just don't know how to execute the project. David Schomer has really informative videos that we watch every now and then at staff meetings, and I highly recommend them to anyone who works at a cafe or is just curious about coffee. But the movies don't quite tackle the way we at Nasty brew our joe, and Schomer's words are thus rendered less than useful, though still interesting and insightful. I think that Nasty needs its own line of videos because our methods are extremely unique and I've never been to any other cafe that came close to approximating what we do. SO no use trying to confuse our poor workers with training supplies that won''t really serve them at their jobs. It's time I got in front of the camera and showed all those bitches how it's done.

Nothing

Today was one of those days where every customer, even the regulars who are typically nice, acted pissed off. I guess it's a common thing for people in my line of work to serve as punching bags for customers who are experiencing some dissatisfaction in other areas of their lives. We're just the humble servants behind the counter. We can't snap back, even if the customer is completely out of line and blatantly rude. I don't feel like I'm a slave. I take pride in my work, and want to be treated as a professional- I try to dress somewhat well, wear make-up and radiate a sense of pride and confidence, just hoping customers will pick up on it and give me some credit and less attitude. That's about all I can do. This renders me helpless in the face of everyday crabiness that I'll inevitably run into at least once during any given shift. I must allow a certain amount of rudeness and be willing to put up with it, or else I'll crumble beneath it and go home feeling so shitty about myself every day. The only way I've been able to tolerate people's crap is to drape myself in a thick cloak of impermeable confidence before each shift. Though I'm confident enough naturally, the emotional strength that's required to devote more than four full years of my life to serving cappuccinos is far beyond what's inherent in my being. I do, however, have a strong appreciation for the art of service, and that has certainly helped me carry on. I can embrace the theatrical aspect of customer service. That thick cloak I was discussing is really just my usual facade- my workplace persona that is more outgoing and talkative and eager to please than my normal self. If I can enjoy putting that mask on day-in and day-out, then I'll have no problem keeping up with this job. Days like today truly test my passion for Cafe Nasty. So far, I'm still having fun.

I promise I'm still here

I feel heavily weighed upon by the amount of schoolwork and freelance work that's been thrust upon me this month. I'd made it a priority when I started this blog to write in it every day, both to keep up my writing skills and to take a deeper look into the coffee business, so I might appreciate this very time-consuming job a little more I suppose. I am lazy as well as techophobic by nature, so it's no surprise to me that I've been slacking in the blogosphere. Nonetheless, I made a commitment to myself several months ago to be regular with my posts, and I swear I'll try to adhere to that commitment more responsibly in the future.
I've thought about different ways to make the coffee business more prevalent on the web. Though I possess no internet programming skills or whatever of my own, I'm still a creative visionary, and I can at least generate ideas and manipulate others into executing them. Does coffeeshop.com exist? I was thinking it could be a web community devoted to coffee. Like there could be blogs by cafe workers like me, roasters, enthusiasts. I also think it would be cool to have a rating system for coffee shops around the country (or even the world) for hardcore addicts to rate the quality of service, espresso, brewed coffee, ambience and stuff like that.

Am I a bitch?

I was racked with guilt for most of today's shift. I waas mean. Sometimes you just have to be, when your workers are slacking and shit just isn't getting done. That's how it was this morning. I tried to be the good person, I really did. But these bitches threw it back in my face and made me suffer for my attempts at kindness. Hannah, who no one can stand, surprised me in the wee hours of the morn' by walking in to work (she was covering forit another girl on the shift). Since I know that no one can stand her, I did the nice thing by working side by side with her all day and putting the other two girls together. Thing is, the other two are friends, and friends tend to slow each other down at work, with all their giggling and gossiping and shit. I kept turning around to see what kind of shape Cafe Nasty was in while they were in charge of keping it clean (that's right, we don't have janitors- we do everything ourselves) and it was just a horrendous sight time after time. I got snappy. I couldn't help it! You should have seen. The garbage can was literally overflowing- to the point where they would put an empty milk container in and it would roll off the top of the dirty mound onto the floor. The nerve! So I definitely got huffy and bitchy. But then I felt really bad and apologized after the shift. They said they didn't notice me being mean and not to worry, but they were lying I know it.
Moral of the story is to not have two good friends working close together if you're in charge, b/c they won't do shit and then you'll have to yell at them and feel bad.

Back to my old tricks.

That was a nice little vacation. Now I'm back at work, like nothing ever changed. One thing I noticed during my adventures out west is that, no matter where I went, food service was slow and uninspired. I know what you're thinking- that service workers (myself included) are underpaid and underappreciated, the work is dull and dirty, so why would I expect enthusiasm from the young dude serving me coffee in the morning? I'll tell you why- because where I come from, if you fail to go that extra mile for each customer you serve, or if you show signs of laziness or that jaded coffee shop worker attitude you are toast. With all the training and effort we at Nasty put into cultivating superior work ethics in our employees, it's nearly impossible for anyone to last at the job without becoming just as psychotically obsessed with customer service as I am. Those that can't live up to the responsibility are quickly weeded out. Why do we even bother? The competition between hip, independent coffee houses around here is so minimal that I'm sure we'd still have a following even if we gave shitty service. But out west, I'd think it would be a different story. Isn't that where Starbucks was birthed? The shortage in efficient and friendly service extends beyond the coffee industry though. Fast food, nice restaurants, ice cream shops, they were all guilty in my brief experience in San Diego. I'm curious just how fact-based my assessments are. Mind you, I was only there for five days. But perhaps that fast-paced New York vibe radiates outward from the city and infects the entire eastern seaboard with its frantic energy. Maybe things are just different out west, and I have to learn to accept that. I don't know.

Greetings from San Diego!

I just thought I should write and let y'all know that the working girl has escaped for a little while. To the sunny beaches of California! It's my spring break from school, and I'm taking a few days off from Nasty as well. I'm actually staying at the apt. of two former Nasty workers. Giving them all the latest gossip from work because they don't get to read this blog. Okay I have to get back to drinking and flashing my honkers to that girls gone wild guy. See ya!

Yes, more MTV crap

They keep coming back, those psycho producers from MTV! I've gotten my head back on straight and done the right thing by giving them a definite no to being part of their little circus. That doesn't mean they've backed off. Just the other day, they were in the cafe with a random assortment of hipsters and beautiful kids they seemingly assembled from off the street to be in their show. They were loitering in and around the cafe, cameramen in tow, crowding the joint during our busiest hour of the day just to get shots that made it look like these random kids work for Nasty. They did this at the record store across the street as well. My boyfriend said that the producers went back there and demanded that the scruffy guys behind the counter shave off their nasty facial hair, wear some name-brand shirts and trucker hats (are those even cool anymore?) and basically just present themselves to be, well, different people while the cameras are rolling. Now, this place is not Empire Records. It's more like the shop in High Fidelity, if you wanna make that kind of comparison. There's no glam at this record store. The guys are aging, unhip, scraggly and withdrawn. I don't know if an Ashton Kutcher costume is really gonna do the trick. This may be why the producers suggested that they might bring in their own set of "workers" to be on duty while filming is taking place. In other words, MTV would hire sexy actors to play record shop employees in order to make their reality show more appealing. Should we at Nasty at least be flattered that they haven't suggested doing that to us?

Coffee Tasting

this is some valuable information about coffee tasting. I am not poetic enough to have written it. Someone else did. Enjoy!


tasting: terms and tools

Coffee tasters use four main categories to help describe and define a cup of coffee. These are acidity, body, bouquet or aromatic profile, and flavor.

* Acidity: this is probably the most important coffee-tasting term, and also the most easily misunderstood. Acidity in coffee tasting is a positive term that denotes a liveliness and vibrancy on the palette, bright taste sensations caused by sugars and other acidic compounds. Coffees are rated as high, medium, or low in acidity according to the overall presence of these qualities
* Body: body describes the texture of coffee and how it feels in your mouth. Density, surface tension, viscosity and other factors determine the perception of body, which is typically rated as heavy or full, medium, and light, depending on if it is thick and creamy or thinner and possibly watery.
* Bouquet: our sense of smell is very involved in the enjoyment and evaluation of coffee, before, during and after we actually taste it. Aromatic profile, or bouquet, is divided into four phases: fragrance, aroma, nose and aftertaste.

Fragrance is perceived in the gases arising from freshly ground coffee.
Aroma is in the gases from freshly brewed coffee.
Nose is perceived in the vapors arising as coffee is swallowed.
Aftertaste is in the vapors that remain after the coffee is swallowed.

* Flavor: flavor refers to the taster’s overall impression of body, acidity, and bouquet. In a general sense it refers to intensity and may also acknowledge particular characteristics such as spice, nut, fruit, or chocolate notes.

The physical tools of the taster are quite obvious: the nose and the mouth/tongue. Key flavors are perceived on different parts of the tongue. Acidity and sweetness are tasted primarily on the tip of the tongue, sourness and saltiness more on the sides, bitterness mostly in the back, and body registers over the whole surface. The nose is an equally important tool, capable of distinguishing between 2000-4000 different aromas. Much of coffee’s flavor is locked up in volatile, aromatic compounds, perceived both directly by sniffing in through the nose, and again during tasting as vapors rise up into the nasal cavity.

While some people are natural “palette people,” blessed with superb sensitivity, it is important to remember that with concentration and practice we all possess the skills to master coffee tasting.

cash register blues

yes, I'm blue. We got a new cash register in the cafe a couple days ago, and it's ruining my life. Our old machine was extremely, well, old. No computer screens, dirty buttons that you can hardly even read what they say. It was great. The new ones are big and clunky, every menu category has its own page in the system. You have to select stupid things like what type of milk or flavor the latte is made with and all that. Basically it's my worst nightmare. I like the simplicity of our old machine. Lots of our pastries didn't even have buttons, and we'd just kind of make up prices as we went along. Fortunately, we're sticking true to one of our guns at least by not taking credit cards. This is something people feel very passionate about. I do as well. At least as far as Cafe Nasty is concerned, I'm anti-plastic. There's something satisfying about denying someone his order at the last minute, just as the barista is pouring his cappuccino, because he thought he could pay with his card. We've wasted many a hot chocolate, etc. because of situations like these. Bad for business yes, but funny. I think the main reason bossy won't get a card swiper thingy is because the company has to pay a small amount for every transaction made with a credit card. And since most of our orders are under like $5, it just doesn't make sense to take plastic. Plus, the line can move a hell of a lot quicker when I don't gotta stand there like an idiot, waiting for the machine to process this asshole's card. What if his card is maxed out and I have to shred it? Oh, that would be satisfying.

Black Gold

I think this is the name of it. My boss recommended this documentary to me, and now I'm recommending it to you! Of course it will be depressing. It's about the corrupt coffee business in Africa, with workers who are practically enslaved by plantation owners they're paid so little. I guess it's sort of the real-life coffee equivalent of that DiCaprio movie "Blood Diamond." Perhaps you'll never take a sip of espresso again after watching it. Perhaps you'll quit your job. I haven't seen it yet, but it's on my Netflix list. que, queue?

No title

I'm in a bad mood. The worst is to be having a "fat" day, be ultra exhausted, kind of depressed, overloaded with school work, mad because the interview I did today didn't record properly and now I'm fucked, and bitter that no, at what should be the end of the day, I have to go begin a shift and train a newbie how to close. Times like these when it's hard, but I've got to remind myself that I love my job and I wouldn't want to be doing anything else for a living. I wouldn't make a good teacher, unlike ever yother girl I know. Will I even be a good mother? I might be completely void of all those maternal, coaching and nurturing instincts. I just lose patience when I train people. Not out loud, of course. My theatrical nature is what saves me, because I can fake a mood whenever life calls for it. I'll just silently suffer like a Jewish grandmother in her darkened living room, and no one will know. But on the inside, I'm screaming, "Is it so goddamn hard to figure out how to sweep a floor? Where did you come from you idiot!!" Cause it's not like they get taught how to make a perfect cap on their first day. That comes a couple months later, after they've proven they can show up on time, scrub toilets, and basically prove that they're worth the money we (not me, boss) pay them.
It's all the crap that comes before espresso training that's painful for me and surely for them as well. I wouldn't want to be trained by myself. No way. What could be more tedious than spending your evening watching closely over this stranger making sure she's putting the latte glasses back in the right spots, or putting broken glasses in the recycling instead of on top of the espresso machine. People have done that. I've seen it with my own two eyes.

Still Scared

Wow baby. It's five days since I wrote something here. I hope none of my fan swere worried about me. I've been really busy with school- with writing this one paper really. No excuses. I don't have a lot to say. One good thing about being so tied up in school, work, and freelancing is that I have like no time to sit and think about how much something or other may suck. So that's good I suppose. I'm still scared shitless about our upcoming cap-off. My caps haven't been looking that great lately. Maybe I'm psyching myself out.

carpal fears

I am scared at the moment because for the first time ever, my wrist is aching with the kind of pain I've only heard described to me by co-workers suffering from carpal tunnel syndrome. In the coffee industry it's not uncommon for workers to experience shooting pains in their wrists and forearms. We baristas make espresso with one hand, and the process of pulling each shot is a repetitive series of twists and turns of the wrist that, after some time, can cause damage. Damn! I didn't think it could happen to me, though. It's funny, because I never have these pains at work, while I'm working the espresso machine. I feel the pain only right now, in my right arm, as I'm sitting here typing. It feels like the tendons connecting my fingers to my wrists to my elbows are on fire or like they might stiffen up at any moment. Anyway, it hurts real bad and I don't want it to continue.
So what do I do? Stop typing? But I'm an aspiring journalist. I can't not type! So do I stop making coffee? Well if I did that, then what would I write about? You see this dilemma of mine? Do you realize now how hard my life can be? Jesus Christ

Home Alone at Boss Lady's House!!

I am typing on my boss's computer, sitting at her desk, having my leg humped by her grimy boyfriend's dog. I'm the housesitter this evening. The boss took that boy (11 years her junior- oh my!) out of town for the night. Some sort of lovers getaway I suppose. And I am here, caring for George's two dogs and boss's adorable little kitten. It's quite the good time so far. She lives in a splendid house not far from my apartment, but in the swankier neighborhood, where everyone has a big yard with tree swings and tiny gardens with those shiny globe things in the middle.
She also has this incredible sauna in her backyard. It looks like a big huge barrel but once you crawl inside, all naked and cold from the snowy outdoors, it's this rustic spa- eucalyptus and all. So that's my evening. My boy is on his way over right now. I had to bring hamburger helper from home to cook here. Boss forgets to grocery shop for her kids and I want more than vodka and dark chocolate for dinner.
I've got one of my working girl buddies coming over later for some naked sauna party time. My boyfriend won't go in the sauna because he says that every time he goes in one, he gets a bad cold the next day that won't go away. Something to do with the heat and steam releasing all his body's toxins at once. He is a pussy, but I love him dearly.
You're probably wondering what evil plan I have to steal from my boss's home or vandalize it in some subtle way that she won't discover till it's too late (turd in the freezer? urine all over the sauna?). I'm lucky I guess that I have a good enough boss that I'm not even tempted to shit in her son's closet so she'll blame him two weeks later when she finds it. I thank my lucky stars for this every day.

Work hard, be lonely forever.

Sometimes I don't have fun at work because I try too hard to be the one setting the example by not making jokes or standing around not doing anything. Know what I mean? Since I'm a trainer, and I've also been working at Nasty for much longer than many other employees, there is pressure to instill that strong work ethic that tough managers instilled in me years ago. If Cafe Nasty loses that insane energy, where workers are always buzzing around and scrubbing shit and being hyper-motivated to get the job done, then we're just another lame coffee shop full of burnout youths.
To think that the public could ever view us that way saddens me greatly. However, as time passes and there are so many new people, so many young people, the fear grows within me that we're headed to a bad place.
So to combat this, I go the extra mile by sometimes not even saying one witty thing or engaging in one minute's worth of small talk with my crew for our entire shift. I work hard instead. I give orders, and throw disapproving glances in the direction of those who slack on the job. Sometimes this works and a good flow is achieved, where we're each doing something of value and there's never a dull moment. Other times, I just end up alienating myself from the team and I spend the day in my corner while they chat and laugh and exclude me from all their jokes- and they don't work.
What to do when this happens?

Comedians behind the counter.

Today is Valentine's Day. That's not really a reason for me to be either excited or depressed. I don't celebrate it with my boyfriend because we're poor, lowly college students and it's hard enough just to make our utility payments on time. Besides, do I really find teddy bears or Russell Stover candies thrilling. No I don't. This is all I'm going to say about Valentine's Day. I think I've already made my case against the holiday in a previous entry, so there.
This cold and blistering morning, I had the fortune of working alongside one of Nasty's more entertaining employees, this guy named Jonas. He has worked there for around six years I think, so he's really a dinosaur compared to the mostly new staff.
When I met him, four years ago, he was a sad man- lonely and chubby and a little bit mean. This carried on for some time. He got a girlfriend maybe a year or so ago, and also took a part-time teaching position. The combined effects of these changes seem to be overwhelmingly positive.
When I work with Jonas, I am continuously shocked throughout the shift at his ability to laugh and small talk with customers. It seems so natural, and I know it is- he's just saying whatever comes to mind, which in his case is usually funny- sometimes in a gross way though. What gets me is how open customers are to his somewhat inappropriate sense of humor. I've seen him transform the stiffest suits into giggling little girls. It's quite amazing to watch.
I would love to have this effect on customers, but I know that I never will. I am a petite, cute, and sometimes intimidating (so I've been told) woman. No matter how chummy I think I'm getting with a regular, there is always a barrier. I believe it comes from within me, and has something to do with my general fear of strangers that can be interpreted as a snobbish or closed-off personality. Yes, that's definitely it.
Jonas presents himself in sort of this, "Here I am world. I'm not perfect- in fact I'm far from it. But I don't care, I just want to make dumb jokes and be a weird hairy guy." There is something about the slobby everyman persona that people are amused by. Because they can relate to it I guess? He is truly funny though, I kid you not.
I try to be cute and funny, but my delivery and my overall public self will probably never put people at such ease as Jonas'.
I would like to work on this.

Mid-Semester Burnout

It's that time, and it's not even mid-semester. This is like one month into the spring term and I can go on no longer.
You see, as much as I love working at Cafe Nasty, with its superior brew and its quirky employees, there will come a time in the next couple years where I'm certain I'll go crazy and have to leave forever. I'm not approaching this state, but I've witnessed other former co-workers get there and it's not a pretty sight. They get cranky over the littlest things, their eyes are dead, their vveins drained of all the love they ever had for working here. Hopefully, I'll be able to pull out gracefully before it gets that bad.
I've got like two more years of college left and I plan to stay at Nasty until I've graduated and hopefully gotten a jobby job.
I'm bringing up these concerns over burning out one day just because that's sorta how I feel at this moment. It's the whole working and schooling full-time that gets me. And living with my darling boyfriend and making time to spend with him. Forget about having other friends. I'll have a night with the girls every now and again, but still. I feel dried up right now. Emotionally and psychologically.
I know that I'll be better tomorrow. Good Night.

It's all about the coffee!

This is just my little ode to the joys of coffeemaking. Cafe Nasty actually has two locations in our small town. One has been in existence for almost 15 years, while the other opened just this summer. The staff is trained to work at both stores. There isn't much of a difference between them, product-wise or anything. The main difference is that the new cafe is a lot smaller and serves a little bit more food and shit. The other, smaller difference is that I hate working at the new Cafe Nasty. This is because I thrive off of the hectic energy of original Nasty. It's quite big for a coffee shop, it seats a shitload of over-pampered snobs and students. It's constantly abuzz with that delightful energy of a well-functioning little business. The new store, because it is so amall and has no indoor seating, has a smaller number of people on every shift. For many reasons, I think this sucks. I'm sure I'll be able to explore those sentiments in depth at a later date. Right now, I'm just bitching because of the lack of contact I have with the espresso machine at the new store. It drives me bonkers!
I live to be close to that steaming hunk of metal (well, not really I guess, but sort of). I get a thrill each time I dose out some of that finely ground pixie dust with it's sweet aroma and dark chocolate. Coffee is life. It is luscious and provides such marvelous instant gratification that only a shot of heroin or an orgasm can match.
And what do I do at the new Nasty? I serve angry mothers and their chocolate-faced offspring bowls of chili and egg sandwiches and all that garbage. No one comes there for the delicious espresso. No way. So I am obviously embittered about having been put in exile over at that stinking place. Fortunately, at this very moment I'm about to begin a shift at the original Nasty, and I have hours of espresso making to look forward to. Joy to the world!