cupcake rant

Ok. You all know I adore my job. (If you didn’t, well, you know now.) Today I was reminded of how NOT to parent my kids when I eventually come to that stage of my life. I work at this cupcake/coffee shop, right? It’s the most beautiful situation in the world. (That is, as long as I can maintain enough self control. I usually do a pretty good job, but hey, I may still end up with diabetes.) I listen to the relaxing music of Jason Mraz and Michael Bublé while I make people lattes and frappes and serve them gourmet cupcakes. It’s divine.

Anyways, this woman waltzes in with her spoiled 8-year-old twin daughters. They scan the counter with their haughty blue eyes. I can tell they are pondering which cupcake to choose — we have quite a variety to choose from. Surely there will be one pleasing choice out of the ten flavors we offer. BUT NO. I notice how they are deliberating amongst themselves, whispering as if I can’t hear them. I can. I know they are allowed to take their time deciding; I understand. If you’re going to pay three dollars for a cupcake, you might as well choose a good one! The first words the mother says to me, however, blow me away. People don’t do this very often:

“Ok, they’ve decided. So could we get this vanilla one, but instead of the sprinkles could we have a purple flower like you have on this one? And then could we get this chocolate one with no sprinkles? And then could you add this one, but have the icing be like this ripply icing instead of the rounder icing? OH, and could you also get me this yellow one with no colored sugar on top, but instead with the little pink ball on top?”

I just wanted to stand and stare. I’m all for good customer service and the-customer-is-always-right and all that, but I was dumbfounded. Of course, ma’am. Let me hold up the rest of the line while I indulge you and your ridiculously specific pastry needs.

But of course, I would never let myself be so openly rude to her. I just calmly informed her that all of our cupcakes were already decorated and ready to be served. If she ever wanted something specific, we would happily take an order for her to pick up at a later date. She relayed this information to the twins, who promptly huffed and whimpered as if they had just been told we were completely sold out of cupcakes and they would be getting none at all. (All of this is going on while Kevin and Brea are trying to help our other patient patrons.)

The threesome did make an eventual decision. The girls settled for vanilla cupcakes with, heaven forbid, the usual rainbow sprinkles. I bid them a good afternoon, silently hoping this mother would not continue to ruin her daughters like this. I guess this sounds really silly and exaggerated. Then again, I couldn’t help but think about how there are kids in Africa who have never even SEEN a cupcake. I couldn’t believe the fit these girls were throwing over not having their cupcakes made extra-special just for them.

But I still love my job. The end.