If You Order Another Caprese, I Swear I’m Going to Lose My Shit
Dear valued Greens* customer,
Having noted your regular presence at our cafe, we write to you to address some behaviors we find concerning.
On Monday, January 22nd, you entered our establishment at 8:56 pm. Although both our front and kitchen staff were clearly in the process of trying to leave so they could enjoy the rest of their nights, you took several minutes to extensively peruse our short menu, before ordering at the last possible second before we could kick you out, 8:59:59 pm.
And you ordered a caprese.
I say this with the utmost respect: would you kindly go fuck yourself?
Having already been forced to make a total of 478 capreses in his past five-hour shift, our kitchen employee who processed your order immediately quit. The experience of making your caprese remained crushing for the other employees to whom the job then passed.
Several days later, you once again ended up at our establishment. Do you really think I didn’t notice that several of the cookies had disappeared by the time you and your sorority sisters had reached the register? Yes, we absolutely understand that you need to conserve your meal money for margaritas at Chili’s. Please, shoplift at will.
You ordered the black bean tacos, and I swear to God, you did not ask for any alterations. And then five minutes later, after you’d already come up twice to ask why your food was taking too long, you had the audacity to say you wanted the black bean tacos without feta! No, I do not want to remake your order, no, getting the tacos without feta is not a respectable choice, and for fuck’s sake no, you can’t also take the tacos that weren’t good enough for you “for your friend.”
And holy shit, what was it the next day?! You wanted a fucking APBG with only green apples! Do you really think I have a shit ton of time on my hands to sit there pulling out all the red apples to suit your delicate college student palate? Yes, of course the other two million people in line behind you wouldn’t complain about the wait, like you did for the ENTIRE time you stood there. Who in hell raised you?
Your ability to modify anything on the menu is beyond compare. You order a superfood and you want it with no tomatoes, no cucumbers, extra edamame, added cheddar, added tofu, a veggie burger, extra avocado, and even though it’s to go, please cut it in half. And once it comes out, oh, what, sorry, you didn’t want it grilled? Why would I ever assume that any normal, non-psychopathic human being would want a wrap with a veggie burger or cheese in it unheated. Of course, I can send it back to the kitchen. They’d be fucking delighted to remake it for you.
I applaud you. Like so many other Vanderbilt students, you are an asshole. I hope your caprese, which I swear I never spat in, was lovely.
*”Greens” refers to a fictitious restaurant, invented for the sake of this article. Any relation to any other on-campus restaurant, living or dead, is purely coincidental