Just Your Local Campus Barista

As you probably already know, college is expensive.

And no one knows financial pressure like the full-time student and part-time worker (clocking in over 25 hours a week) who is trying to earn money for the monthly tuition payment and still keep their grades up to keep the academic scholarship they can't go to school without.

But hey. At least I didn't choose Pre-med or Engineering as my major. That would really suck.

Working as a barista isn't hard. I make coffee, clean, wash dishes, stock the coolers, talk to the regulars, and often stand unashamedly staring at my phone when it is slow. I get paid like $10/hr. Throw in the free coffee and the occasional "dropped" cheesecake, and I've got quite the bargain mini-career.

But I do have to put up with knuckleheads sometimes.

Like the group I call "The Entitled Ones". This includes...

(1) a girl that thinks she can get free stuff because she used to work for the school Cafeteria (she worked there for a week and quit)

(2) a security guard on campus who got a free courtesy coffee from me ONCE and now doesn't even offer to pay, and

(3) some guy that asked me out once and I turned down but gave him a free smoothie because I felt bad.

The other knuckleheads are the group I call "The Procrastinators". Always the same group. And when they come, they come at 8:50, 10 minutes 'till closing time, and ask for 5 frappes: 2 oreo and 3 caramel. Last minute. Like the way I complete my homework...

Why?! Like, bro, I am trying to go home. I am tired. The coffee I drank earlier is wearing off, and I have homework to do. I have been standing, waiting here at the cash register for the last 6.5 hours. And you chose to come and order, not one, but five frappes right as I am starting to close shop?

Every time, I feel like screaming at them like some kind of insane banshee holding a cup of steaming espresso. I don't, obviously, or I probably wouldn't have any customers, and then I would be a very sad barista.

Okay, sometimes I mumble grumpily under my coffee breath. Sorry.

They still say my frappes are the best, so I thank them and get home about 10 minutes later than usual. Hey, another dollar on the paycheck. Woo hoo.

Don't get me wrong. I love my job. I love the smell of the espresso beans as I pour them into the machine. I love the sound of the coffee grinding in the morning and the feel of squeezing vanilla base into the blender for a frappe. I love meeting students and faculty, and (of course) drinking coffee.

And even though I have been at this for almost six months, I still make mistakes all the time. Once I accidentally forgot to steam the milk for a latte and gave it to the customer (who happened to be my dorm supervisor) cold. Not a very good impression.

Another time my friend asked for a hot chocolate and the milk was accidentally cross-contaminated with almond milk... she, being allergic to nuts, was in the ER all night for that (Emma, if you are reading this, I am really, really sorry). After that terrifying incident, my coworkers and I took a ServSafe course and got certified as safe baristas.

Cause we were obviously dangerous before.

Overall, my experiences as a campus barista have been an adventure. I learned how to make a mean Mochaccino, and even met my first boyfriend... but, that's a story for another time.