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  • Scroll down to the bottom for the review if you don't care about my story. Unfortunately, some larger old lady with a bowl-cut was there the other day with her weirdo bearded husband. Evidently, these folks had never been in a coffee shop. As the line slowly grew, she asked about all the food options in the case. I guess the croissants were pretty confusing for her. Anyway, the employee was very patient with her. She walks over to examine the food for a few minutes. So the next person assumes its her turn and orders, and she doesn't disappoint. Lucille asks how much a shot of espresso is. Then asks how much 5 shots are. What the hell! The guy is so patient with these people. Meanwhile the woman waiting behind me puts her kid down because her arm is falling off because the oldies are turning ordering coffee into a broadway production. So espresso-shots lady gets her order, then starts pulling coins out of her purse for exact change. Awesome. Just as she's finished, indecisive-food lady hops back over in line. ALL I WANT IS A FRIGGIN ICED TEA! The guy asks for the next person, and she looks at me like she's clueless as to who's turn it is. I'm thinking, "You've been in here for ten minutes and don't know who's turn it is, and you have a bowl cut." So just as I'm about to order an iced tea, she begins her order. Sigh. This has nothing to do with the coffee shop service, by the way. It's just amazing how stupid and inconsiderate some people are. So I finally get to order, one iced tea. I get it, pay for it. Then I move down to add some sugar. Well, bowl-cut's weirdo bearded husband is down there blocking everything with his stupid coffees. He waits for me to reach for the honey before moving his cups. I get my lid and head for the door. I'm done, right? Aaah nope. Bowl-cut is standing in the doorway, on the outside, with her foot in the door. I stand there for a few seconds wondering if she's going to open the door for me or move out of the way. Neither. She looks directly at me, and doesn't do anything. I start opening the door. She still doesn't move! She says, "Harold!" or whatever his name was, "Come over here!" So I then pull the door all the way open, say "excuse me, please," and squeeze by her to freedom. I feel bad for her husband. Love the coffee here.
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