Espresso Woes
Getting breakfast this morning, just a simple espresso and pastry turned into a 1.5 hour long ordeal. Here's a summary:
1. Cuppa' Joe, 10:00 AM: This is the closest coffee joint to my place, and I figured that I'd get my caffeine fix there. The inattentive barrista made my coffee only after I reminded him that he forgot my order. In typical Israeli fashion (i.e., the customer is never right), he told me that I hadn't paid and therefore he hadn't made the coffee. I told him that it's not my fault that he took my order without putting it in the computer and asking me for the six shekels. The coffee was weak, lukewarm, and the whole experience ruined my appetite for ordering one of their pastries.
2. Ne'eman Bakery, 10:30 AM: I figured that I would pop over to the Ne'eman Bakery in Talpiyot, one of which is conveniently located on the grounds of a gas station. After slogging my way through unreasonably heavy Monday morning traffic, and having a near accident on Emek Refaim (a Hebrew University professor was gesticulating that I move forward one inch so that she could squeeze through and make a left up Graetz) I reached the gas station, only to see that the bakery was closed for renovations.
3. Hadar Mall, 10:45 AM: This convenient little mall in Talpiyot has an Aroma and a Ne'man; the former now became relevant because the Cuppa' Joe coffee was way too weak. Even at 10:45 on a Monday morning, there was not one parking spot to be found, and the Israeli smart alacks had even parking in all of the no-parking zones. I've only seen a scene like this on Fridays, never on a Monday morning.
4. Malcha Mall, 11:15 AM: It took about 30 minutes to traverse the distance between Talpiyot and Malcha. First I hit Ne'eman, and about 10 minutes after I had selected my pastry, I was able to convince the cashier that the lowly me was worthy of her attention. She took my money begrudgingly. A trek upstairs to Aroma, where the cashier didn't understand why I would give her 21 NIS when the coffee cost only 6 NIS. I guess Israelis like having thousands of coins jingling in their pockets.
In America, my morning would have gone as follows:
Starbucks, 10:00 AM: I order my coffee. The cashier is attentive, greets me with hello, and asks for my money. If the coffee is weak/lukewarm, he/she apologizes profusely, makes me another coffee, and maybe even gives me a free pastry. I go on my merry way.
Lessons learned:
1. I chose to live here, it's my fault.
2. Boycott Cuppa' Joe.
1. Cuppa' Joe, 10:00 AM: This is the closest coffee joint to my place, and I figured that I'd get my caffeine fix there. The inattentive barrista made my coffee only after I reminded him that he forgot my order. In typical Israeli fashion (i.e., the customer is never right), he told me that I hadn't paid and therefore he hadn't made the coffee. I told him that it's not my fault that he took my order without putting it in the computer and asking me for the six shekels. The coffee was weak, lukewarm, and the whole experience ruined my appetite for ordering one of their pastries.
2. Ne'eman Bakery, 10:30 AM: I figured that I would pop over to the Ne'eman Bakery in Talpiyot, one of which is conveniently located on the grounds of a gas station. After slogging my way through unreasonably heavy Monday morning traffic, and having a near accident on Emek Refaim (a Hebrew University professor was gesticulating that I move forward one inch so that she could squeeze through and make a left up Graetz) I reached the gas station, only to see that the bakery was closed for renovations.
3. Hadar Mall, 10:45 AM: This convenient little mall in Talpiyot has an Aroma and a Ne'man; the former now became relevant because the Cuppa' Joe coffee was way too weak. Even at 10:45 on a Monday morning, there was not one parking spot to be found, and the Israeli smart alacks had even parking in all of the no-parking zones. I've only seen a scene like this on Fridays, never on a Monday morning.
4. Malcha Mall, 11:15 AM: It took about 30 minutes to traverse the distance between Talpiyot and Malcha. First I hit Ne'eman, and about 10 minutes after I had selected my pastry, I was able to convince the cashier that the lowly me was worthy of her attention. She took my money begrudgingly. A trek upstairs to Aroma, where the cashier didn't understand why I would give her 21 NIS when the coffee cost only 6 NIS. I guess Israelis like having thousands of coins jingling in their pockets.
In America, my morning would have gone as follows:
Starbucks, 10:00 AM: I order my coffee. The cashier is attentive, greets me with hello, and asks for my money. If the coffee is weak/lukewarm, he/she apologizes profusely, makes me another coffee, and maybe even gives me a free pastry. I go on my merry way.
Lessons learned:
1. I chose to live here, it's my fault.
2. Boycott Cuppa' Joe.
posted by LonelyManofCake | 5:11 AM
2 Comments:
Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. That is the saddest story i have ever heard...
Sorry Bubbale, but here in Ra'anana at the local Aroma and "Ilan's House of Coffee" (not to mention "Coffee and Friends") they love us, are very nice to us, and personally I find the coffee WAAAYYYY better than Starbucks.
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