Coffee & Carrot Cake??

After a hard day at work and an early rise that morning I arrived in the city centre thinking that a latte, a cake and a read of the days newspapers was in order.

With four coffee shops within 50 yards of where I was standing, I made a random choice. I wished I didn’t.

A young girl greeted me cheerily at the counter:

“Hi Sir, Can I take your order?”

“Yes. Can I have a latte and a piece of carrot cake?”

“Carrocky?”

“No, Carrot Cake”

“Carrocky?”

“Carrot Cake”

“Hold on a second”

I waited patiently as the girl went up to another girl who was working with her. She was clearly hoping that she might be fluent in moron.

“Yes sir what were you wanting?”

“I’m just after a latte and a slice of carrot cake”

“Carrocky?”

“Carrot Cake”

“No we don’t have any”

“It’s there at the counter!!” I said pointing to what can only be described as carrot cake

“Oh. Carrot cake. Yeh no problem. Can I take a name for your order?”

“It’s Richard”

“Sorry?”

“Richard”

“I’m Sorry?”

“Richard!”

“Sorry Mitchell, It’s your accent. Which part of England are you from?”

“I’m not, I’m Scottish”

“Oh I’m so sorry!! I didn’t mean to offend you!”

“It’s OK. You didn’t offend me. It’s an easy mistake to make. It would be like me calling you a kiwi.”

“I am a kiwi”

“Well. There you go then.”

The other girl, overhearing our conversation states, “I love Dublin”

I always see this as a rather random response, after all when people tell me they are doctors, I don’t respond with “really, my mum works in car finance”

Still, I’m sure she meant well so on this occasion I opted to agree and leave it at that.

With my order finally taken, I sat down and waited for my coffee and carrot cake. After a couple of minutes the girl making the coffee shouted out my name, or rather Mitchell. I went up to grab my drink only to find what appeared to be a coffee variation on a frozen coke.

By now I felt the best approach was to cut my losses, take the muddy looking iced beverage and accept defeat. So I took the drink, sat down and continued reading my paper. The drink wasn’t as bad as it looked and was rather refreshing after being out in the sun.

About 30 seconds later, I was startled by the thud of a latte being slammed onto my table at the maximum force it is possible to place a cardboard cup onto a hard surface without it collapsing under the pressure.

“This was your order sir!”

I guiltily picked up the half drunk iced drink and offered her a swap.

“It’s no use to me now, is it?” she spitefully responded before walking away in disgust.

I felt it was time to leave so I folded up my newspaper and went on my way grateful that there are plenty of other coffee shops for Mitchell to try.

I never did get the carrocky.