- The discovery of a coconut on the ground is not exciting and not worthy of a conversation debating the prowess of African vs. European swallows. Continue reading
Whenever I feel peckish, and if I happen to be on my way to The Boyfriend’s house, I may or may not decide to stop at Metro grocery store to ogle the multitude of snacks available to the unsuspecting consumer. Continue reading
“Do you know how to play poker?”
If these words are uttered by a cute boy with curly blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a disarming smile, the response should always be a resounding, “No,” followed closely by, “and don’t teach me.”
But at fourteen years old with nothing but a history of silent crushes to guide me, what did I know? Continue reading
Montreal is home to a scary number of cafes and coffee shops (Starbucks notwithstanding). This means that, at some point or another, you or someone you know will end up slinging coffee across a counter for minimum wage plus tips. And unless you’re working by yourself, the tips are pretty shitty.
Despite the necessity of an early morning caffeine-drip, often customers will insist on treating their baristas like shit. Even coming in two or three times a day in order to continue the barista-bashing while stimulating their already-caffeine-addled brains.
So while there is already a fairly comprehensive list of ways to piss off your barista over at HuffPost, I still felt as though there were a few items missing from Ruby Browne’s list. Without further ado, here are another 10 ways to piss off your barista:
For any of my readers who are not inhabitants of The Far North (excluding my American readers who live in the mid-west, I know it can get pretty cold out there), you need to understand just how miserable winters in Montreal can be.
First, there’s the annual 23938503240934 feet of snow:
Back in high school, I dated a guy who didn’t like soup. This was a red flag for several reasons the first of which was a very basic “who the hell doesn’t like soup?” And second of all, he was in a relationship with someone who’s appreciation for broth and noodles went as deep as an extra large bowl of Phở [fuh]. We remain friends to this day but my distrust of him for distaste for soup lingers like the subtle aftertaste of a large bowl of spicy Ramen. Continue reading