Lets be a little condescending and rude for a moment. (Why should today be any different?)
Lets say for the sake of arguing that the cashier at the Starbucks I am at is not either low-functioning tarded or is normal, but just that slow and more than a little dumb.
To save time, lets call this cashier Muttenhead.
First of all, that is an insult to tarded people everywhere, as well as being an insulted to the slow and dumb.
Its all about intent. I am not meaning to insult one group, yet fully intending to insult the other.
After all, its a waste of time to insult someone if they don’t realize you are smacking at them.
Here’s the problem. If you are the cashier, your job is to handle money. This requires the basic skills of counting, addition and subtraction.
But what if you got hired for that job, but at no time during the hiring process did anyone look at Muttenhead and ask the question, do you have the ability to count?
Then you would be stuck in the awkward position of being the cashier but being unable to BE the cashier.
So, here we are.
A Venti house drip is $2.15. If you hand the “Cashier” a $5 bill, the change would be $2.85.
This sounds like a simple transaction.
So, where could the problem be?
With Muttenhead, of course.
The first handful of change handed to me, by dirty nails no less, was $8.45.
I saw the issue before he handed it to me.
“Wrong.” I couldn’t see any reason to add in a lot of distracting words, Muttenhead has enough on his plate.
“What?” His blank stare was more than a little imposing. If definitions of basic words were beyond him, we were stuck.
“The change is wrong.” I can be generous when the mood hits, perhaps its just a case of him not knowing specifically what was wrong.
“Oh.” He took it back with the same dirty nailed hand he gave it to me with. He looked blankly at it and then put it all back into the proper change drawers. He poked at the dimes, then looked at me.
“What did you have?” Muttenhead’s forehead was wrinkled in confusion. Supposedly, man evolved away from the prominent sub-orbital ridge or forehead of the neanderthal. Muttenhead might be a throw back.
The barista snickered, evidently this show was not new.
“Venti house, $5 bill.”
Again, poking the dimes, the dimes might hold secrets, but not in this case.
An entire minute passed before I got another handful of change.
Muttenhead watched me and I got the scary feeling he was waiting for me to count it.
I glanced at it and could see that, while it was closer, it was still wrong.
“Nope. It should be $2.85. This is $3.22.”
Are you shitting me?
There was 2 more attempts before I named the actual coins he needed to give me.
I left with a sense of wonder at the sheer idiocy of Corporate Starbucks and their hiring policies.
Not to be rude or anything, but WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!?!
And to Muttenhead, I wish you all the best. Just don’t look up when it rains…
You might drown, moron.