Baristas Hate It When You Do These 12 Things

Before we dive in, let's get one thing straight. Baristas love you — really, we do — and this writer is speaking with several years of experience working as a barista. You keep us employed, we, in turn, keep you caffeinated, and we both remind each other that humanity still has a "shot," literally. But (you had to know there was a "but" coming), there are just a few things you do that make us question our career choices as we froth your triple caff, half-sweet, light ice, four-extra-pump of caramel oat milk latte at 5:01 a.m. (are you the person waiting right at the door the second the coffee shop opens?)

Now, we're not asking for much. We know you're tired, don't want to be late to the important places you are going, and are generally just trying to survive another workday without losing your cool in rush hour traffic. We see you. In fact, we baristas have seen every version of pre-caffeine chaos, from the customer who treats the poor soul at the register like it's Sunday confession, or the coffee client who insists on "extra hot" (every single day), only to ask for an ice cube in it after all. "Too hot" is a double entendre in this case, because behavior like this? Well, it gets baristas heated.

But again, this isn't hate mail. Think of it more like a friendly little letter. Just as learning how to become a better Starbucks customer can improve the experience for both you and the staff, consider this a how-to guide for not being that customer.

Look, we get it. For most of us, mornings are a mix of bleary-eyed chaos, complete with barely awake stumbling into something (hopefully) presentable to wear, followed by somehow making our way to the nearest coffee shop to get our caffeine fix. But arriving at the counter unprepared to place your drink order is one post-sunrise snafu baristas just can't get on board with.

While there's an arsenal of unexpected skills baristas learn on the job, mind reading isn't one of them. They also don't double as your personal beverage therapists, paid to hold your hand as you seek into the depths of your appetite to decide if you want one shot or two in your latte. As one barista explained, "Either know what you want or be able to articulate what your preferences are so that staff can assist you in deciding" (via Kidspot).

If you are bringing in complicated customization energy, maybe consult your horoscope first. We want to get you that perfect drink that matches your aura just as much as you, but maybe at more of a hare's pace than a tortoise's. Simply put: Be decisive. Be kind. Have your order ready.

Now that we have covered that whole coffee drink ordering code of conduct, what comes after is just as critical for not giving baristas the ick. While one would naturally assume customers would be aware they've stepped into a coffee shop and not a zoo, sometimes their googly-eyed stares at every stage of the drink-making process prove they did not get that memo. Honestly, maybe some signs just like those posted by a chimpanzee cage would be in order: "Please don't stare at the baristas, it makes them incredibly uncomfortable. They may even become aggressive." 

It's wild how many people will just stand there, staring, almost as if they're waiting for baristas to start juggling espresso cups like a circus act. We half expect someone to toss us a banana when we finish a perfect pour. We do get the fascination. There's steam, noise, movement. It's a whole production. 

But you can enjoy the show from a respectful distance, like any polite zoo visitor. There's no need to lean over the counter, or make prolonged eye contact like you're trying to establish dominance. All we ask is that you admire the barista habitat respectfully. And please, no flash photography...

Baristas know you're in a rush. You have places to be, meetings to survive, and a caffeine deficiency that's currently manifesting as mild rage. Yet before you start giving us the stink-eye because your caramel macchiato isn't materializing in three seconds, please take a deep breath and remember that wise old adage: good things take time. Rest assured, we're working as fast as we can, not slinking to the back to take a break while you slowly unravel without your beloved butter croissant and cappuccino.

Baristas don't control time, the espresso machine, or the laws of physics. The milk can only steam so fast, and if there's a line of 12 people and one blender, your frappe dreams will just have to chill for a hot minute.

When all else fails, remember that patience makes coffee taste better. (Science hasn't confirmed that yet exactly, but pretty sure it is a passage in the barista bible). So instead of hovering like a caffeine vulture or sighing dramatically every few seconds, maybe take a beat, check your email, scroll your feed, or make eye contact with that perfect scone that has your name all over it. Your drink is coming, and no amount of huffing will speed up delivery times.

Our next news headline? There is most definitely a way to complain about your restaurant or coffee shop order without being a jerk. We're going to say something wild that might be hard to wrap your head around: Baristas are human. Yep, actual humans with beating hearts, rent to pay, and, occasionally, the ability to make an honest coffee drink mistake. You can rest assured that they don't wake up thinking, "You know what? I'm going to ruin someone's morning with whole milk instead of almond."

If something's wrong, please just let your barista know — nicely. A calm "Hey, I think this was supposed to be iced?" gets you a fast fix. On the other hand, a dramatic "THIS ISN'T WHAT I ORDERED!!!" (please note the all caps and exponentially unnecessary amount of exclamation points) is one Oscar-worthy performance that has no place in a coffee shop or café.

Remember, your barista isn't your enemy. We're your caffeine lifeline, and want you to leave happy (and caffeinated). So maybe just skip the meltdown, eschew the eye roll, and perhaps even put the kibosh on the whole "Can I speak to the manager?" speech. Think less drama, more crema.

Baristas often love a good chat. Banter is part of the gig — when the line isn't wrapped around the block and we're not 10 tickets deep in frappuccinos, that is. We welcome small talk or shooting the breeze on a lazy summer afternoon. But when things get slammed and a customer decides that now is the perfect time to launch into a monologue about where they are planning their next vacation, or what Aunt Marge made for Sunday supper, just know we're smiling on the outside and silently screaming inside.

Honest talk: We don't want to have to go to the back or duck behind the counter to hide from you. But sometimes it's either that or seek an escape route before the rest of the now-lined-up-all-the-way-to-the-door customers erupt into a full-on mutiny.

Hear us when we say, your jokes slay! But maybe save your A+ comedy for a calm moment, when we can actually laugh without dodging death stares from the customers six people deep, also waiting for their cup of Joe. Let's make a date, then, shall we? Catch us after the rush, and we'll happily multi-task — roasting beans and your ex together.

We have all heard the customer complaints about a cashier texting instead of ringing up an order. How rude, right? But what happens when the roles are reversed? When you, the customer, are mid–speakerphone call with your dentist, your boss, or your bestie, while mumbling your order to the poor barista behind the counter? All we hear is a wild version of the adults on the "Peanuts" cartoons.

So unless you really do want a "wah-wah-wah" coffee (whatever that is), just hang it up — literally. Not only will it hedge your bets to get your correct order, but it will also simply help you be a better customer. It's rude on a personal level, and impractical on a sound level. The barista just can't hear you over the espresso machine and your Bluetooth drama. 

We're not saying hang up forever. Maybe just pause. Press mute. Acknowledge the real human making your beverage before returning to your chaotic phone convo. We promise your call will survive the 45 seconds it takes to say, "Hi, could I get a latte, please?"

We can't believe we have to say this, but here we are. Baristas are not dogs, birds, or servants in a historical drama. Now that we have established that, common sense dictates that it is not, under any circumstances, cool to snap, whistle, or yell to get our attention. We promise, it doesn't make us serve you faster. It just makes us question your etiquette.

The barista is not ignoring you. We might just be steaming milk, pulling shots, or placating the last customer who had a meltdown at the cash register when their latte wasn't hot enough to boil but cool enough to not burn their tongue (that is a whole other article).

If we're behind the counter, we see you. We'll get to you. Snapping your fingers at a barista should come with an automatic Seinfeld-esque espresso shot ban. (No shot for you!) But again, we love you. So we offer this PSA instead, with great affection: Rather than pssst-ing like you're calling a cat, just act like a purr-son. We'll drink that up.

Local baristas have all been there — that "Can I get a venti caramel macchiato upside-down extra whip?" at a tiny indie coffee shop moment. Spoiler alert: We have no idea what that means here. You might as well have ordered your Starby-inspired mocha in Morse code. Different cafes, different languages, friend. This seems pretty straightforward and simple, yet still, some customers just can't seem to make the distinction. Here's a good rule of thumb. Ask yourself: "Is it on the menu as that? No...?" Exactly.

When you place a Starbucks order at an independent cafe (or try to order a Little Beanery Cinnamon Dolce Special at a drive-thru mega-chain Dunkin'), everyone is left just scratching their heads. We're not mad, we're just confused, and very tired of the easily avoidable identity crises of your chosen cup of Joe.

Moving forward, maybe think of coffee shops like dialects. You wouldn't go to a French patisserie and yell "Burger King Croissant, extra egg," right? So don't assume "grande" exists everywhere. Bottom line: Just order what is on the menu — the one here, in this coffee shop, right in front of you.

Imagine you are a barista, just trying to get through a super busy morning rush. You are sweaty, agitated, and stressed to the max. You go to take the next order and are met with a grinning, looming customer who leans in real close and says,"Sooo ... can I get your number?"

Sir or ma'am — please. We're standing in front of a line of people, holding a steaming milk pitcher, and you've just tried to turn this chaos play into a rom-com. You've heard that saying, "There's a time and place for everything"? Well, your neighborhood coffee shop just isn't it.

And before you say, "But they smiled at me!," know we are paid — literally on payroll — to be friendly and smile to everyone. It's not flirting; it's customer service. So what you may see as flattering, when we're trapped behind a counter, mid-latte art, that's not exactly a neutral setting. It's awkward for us, uncomfortable for everyone else, and, let's be honest, a little weird. Plus, there are apps for that. Please use them. The only grinder here is for coffee beans.

Ooh, this next one — them dollah bills, ya'll. When you are paying at the register, baristas are not asking for a royal handshake, just a basic handover (like, actually in our hand). So when you toss your money onto the counter like it's a Vegas blackjack table, it feels a little aggressive. Throwing money on the counter is also just lowkey rude and feels almost demeaning. There's really no extra energy required to simply place it in our hand. That's it. That's the request.

We promise, we don't bite. We've been handling cash (and caffeine) since before Venmo existed. But also, if the bill is crumpled, wet, or somehow smells amiss, that's just a hard pass. Like, your cash is no good here – or at least that is what we want to say, while seriously considering going completely card only.

Cash or card, there's one simple rule: Treat the exchange like a polite human interaction, not a money toss at a toll booth. It really isn't a small thing, because when you hand it to us directly, you're not just paying for a cup of coffee; you're saying, "I see you."

Baristas love the regulars: You keep the espresso flowing and our spirits (mostly) high. That being said, please don't be offended if we don't immediately recognize you or your "triple ristretto almond latte with two shakes of cinnamon, extra hot supercalifragilisticexpialidocious sip."

And those who are offended? The honest truth is that some of you come in every day. Some of you every other day. Some of you just ... look like 10 other people named Chris. It's not personal — those expectations are just a lot. And unrealistic. If we do remember your name and drink? Amazing! But let's consider that icing, not expectation — or like a bonus, not a birthright. 

After all, we're baristas, not mind readers. So please, go ahead. Kindly repeat your order like it's the first time, even if it's the 400th. We'll make it with love (and maybe, someday, even remember your name). Manage expectations: We're slinging drinks, not psychic powers.

Oh, good morning sir! What's that you say? You only want Jenny to make your drink? Adorable. But honestly, where do you think you are? Build-a-bear? And what do you think this is? Pick N Mix? We are people doing our jobs, and you get whoever comes to the counter to serve you your sip.

Besides, we promise every barista here has been trained on how to make your vanilla cold brew, just like Jenny. You don't need to peer around the espresso machine like you're hunting for your "favorite." We're all trained, can foam milk, pull shots, and appreciate your (hopefully at least) $5 tip — yes, just like Jenny.

Asking for a specific barista (looking at you, Jenny) is even kinda like a slap in the face to the baristas not requested, like we are being relegated. So, consider it a kindness, and let us (all) make your drink. Jenny is sooooo overrated, anyway.