Trip Hazard

The Customer Is Always Right

Noah

I'm smiling because I have no idea what's going on.

"Non non non, je suis certain, on sera bien, je peux travailler avec Noah. Il sera très utile, je pense. Bah ouais, il est très maladroit, mais il est gentil, donc tout va bien. Si ca marche pas, ca sera ma faute." Isaac rattles off to his mom over the phone. I don't understand a word, but as always it sounds impressive.

"S'il te plait, maman, peut être tu peux s'occuper de Phoebe? Ouais. Non, j'étais pas sarcastique, j'suis serieux! Tu m'aide beaucoup! S'il te plait, maman? Merci, je t'aime aussi." He smiles and blows a kiss that she definitely can't see. "A bientôt!"

He turns to me and beams.

"Looks like it's just you and me, buddy. Ready for your first day?"

"Wait, your mom's not coming?" He definitely heard the panic in my voice. Isaac's not 18 yet, so I'm the responsible adult? A bad idea from the outset. He pats me on the shoulder reassuringly.

"No, I persuaded her to stay home. She's worked double shifts all week because Marcus has been ill, she deserves a break. I thought we'd take care of everything."

"Uhh, I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Of course you don't, but I'm a pro. Just watch me, and listen carefully." He thrusts an apron into my hands and claps his hands. I guess we're starting.

Isaac's pointing energetically at everything and anything, rattling off information. I know I should be listening, but my brain has gone into self-protect mode and has installed a barrier from receiving new information. So I plaster a smile and nod enthusiastically. If anything, that makes him speed up more. God help me.

"So, you got that?" Isaac grins evilly and holds out an apron. I take it, and put it on over my t shirt and jeans. I avoid eye contact so he can't see my fear.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Liar."

Damn. I thought I was pretty compelling. I look at him, a little affronted, a little defensive.

"I'm sure I'll pick it up as I go."

"Great! Here's the first customer, you can just watch me for the first time."

"Okay." I bite my thumb.

When Isaac offered me a job at the coffee shop, I thought it would be a great idea. Swap out popcorn for coffee and it's practically the same thing, right? Wrong. There are a million different orders here and I have to engage in small talk with customers. That was never an issue at the cinema. People didn't want to talk to you, they were the type of people that just wanted to sit in silence for two and a half hours. I sigh and look at the drinks Isaac's making. It should be illegal for someone as clumsy as me to work near hot drinks. This isn't going to end well. I'm about to throw in the apron so to speak when Isaac chimes in, as cheerful as ever.

"Your turn now, Noey!"

"Uh, hello, welcome to Le Café Quotidien!" I use my best French accent on the customers. I repeat it in my normal voice when they don't understand. "What can I get for you?"

It takes literally 15 seconds for them to say the entire drink name. I could scream. If it were up to me, the only option would be between tea or coffee, and between medium and large (small sizes are for the weak.) But no, let's give customers the choice to have anything. This is the cruel underbelly of 'the customer is always right.'

Isaac has to pretty much redo the drink after I've made it. Maybe my lack of french isn't helping, but what is the difference between butterscotch and toffee? It all tastes the same to me. Isaac doesn't seem too bothered though, in fact he congratulates me.