[Insert Collective Groans Here]

August 21, 2008 at 11:22 PM (Happenings) ()

I work at a coffee shop that tries to streamline the product-to-customer process by tying customer’s names to their orders.  For example, if six drinks are sitting at the bar, a customer needs only to find his name, rather than try to decipher the shop’s shorthand.  In addition, we apply this process to toasted sandwiches and pastries.

Today was full of tourists.  I’ve no idea what it is about late Thursday mornings, but apparently Italians love their coffee around then.  One family came through, placed its large order of several drinks, some patries and a breakfast sandwich, and went on its merry way.  A few minutes later, the gentleman of the party had yet to retrieve his breakfast sandwich.  I looked at the labeled bag, then decided just to call out the sandwich:

“Ham egg and cheese!”

The gentleman did not turn around.  I tried again and encountered the same nonreaction.  I hestitated and exchanged a look with my coworker, who smirked as she read the name.  “I really don’t want to shout this across the store,” I muttered . . .

“Marco!”

From behind me, I heard the snickering of a couple more coworkers as they muttered, “Polo!”

Marco had yet to turn around.  I was getting frustrated.

“MARCO!”

“Polo!” This time it was from the customers who were still in line.  I had to keep from laughing as Marco finally decided to hear me and collect his sandwich.

I guess you’re never too old for that sort of thing.

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