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Saturday, August 31, 2013

Adventures of a Downtown Coffee Cafe

I would say the day started like any other day, following the cliche, but it didn't. Not really. The first few hours were fairly standard... and then, downtown decided to remind my staff and I just what it could be like. Business was picking up in the morning and I had just taken the opportunity that a lull presented to deal with the parking meters for the couple of us that had vehicles. On my way back into the cafe, I noticed that one of downtown's regular hang-abouts was in his usual spot, holding court with a sizable group of street teens. As I walked passed them, on the other side of the street, I could hear a conversation that seemed to about fighting, which was accompanied by the expected motions. While the hang-about was known to collect these younger kids about him, it was unusual for him to be surrounded by so many at one time, especially this early in the morning. I thought it wise that a wary eye was kept on him and the group.


My cafe has an abundance of windows, giving us an excellent view of the street, and the activity of the people and vehicles passing by. A young teen in a black leather-style jacket and a beautiful emerald green, button-down shirt purchased a tall coffee. He took advantage of our store's free refill policy a number of times, and then left the store to join the group of teens hanging out on the street corner. Not too long after he left, and after I had played the initial turn in the meter game, another teen male came in. He headed straight for the coffee pots that customers are able to obtain their refills. Now, my cafe has a notorious problem with people handing off coffee cups, retrieving coffee cups from the rubbish bins on the street, or trying to stretch a cup's use past a day; so much so that we took to dating all of our cups. When this new teen tried to obtain a "refill," he was immediately questioned, for we did not recognize him as a customer from the last couple of hours. He showed us the cup, which had the proper date on it, but followed up by explaining that it was his friend's coffee cup. When I asked which friend, he pointed out to the group of kids, in specific a young man wearing a brilliant green shirt and camo pants- someone else who had not entered my cafe that morning. I informed the young man attempting to get coffee that he was not able to get a refill, that if his friend wanted a refill, his friend had to do it himself. I also let him know that I knew exactly who in that crowd had purchased coffee from me that morning. The kid left and stood out on the corner opposite the corner where the group was hanging out, which enabled my staff and I to witness quite an interesting conversation concerning that particular cup of coffee. After much discussion, and what looked like a small argument, there was a moment of stillness.

It was not too much longer before the young man in the black jacket returned to our shop with his cup. He attempted to be coy and clever and asked one of my baristas if we ever wrote the wrong dates on the cups. She just looked at him and flatly told him "No." The excuse of the wrong date was not one these kids were going to be allowed to use. He obtained his coffee and returned to the group, carrying with him the news that if a kid attempted to use a "wrong date" argument with us that it would not achieve the desired result. He was not with the group long before we witnessed the coffee cup making the rounds amongst the teens. We looked at each other in amazement. One of my other baristas exclaimed, "Do they really think that we can't see what they are doing?"

The morning continued to be busy, with us watching the kids as best as we could between steady lines of customers. After some time, another teen boy made his way into my cafe. He was another from the group across the street, and once again had not been in my cafe yet that morning. When he was questioned, he said that his friend had purchased it for him. Considering the history of this particular cup, it was immediately confiscated, for it had not been purchased for him; it had been making the rounds, freely changing hands. Needless to say, he was rather disgruntled, but left with a minimum of fuss. We hoped that would be the end of our issues with those particular teens that day.

Unfortunately, the day only became more interesting. I was back in the kitchen, doing some chores, when one of my baristas informed me that one of our problem girls had just entered the cafe. This particular girl was a physically beautiful young woman, though life was already taking its toll on her. She was tall, about 5'8", a good three inches taller than me. She had fine, Puerto Rican features, black hair, and a body that was painfully skinny. As I came behind the bar, I witnessed her immediately approach some customers and start talking to them. I quickly made my way behind the bar to intercept her, hearing her ask them for money as I did so.

Now, this particular young woman and I already had a small history. Only a couple of weeks ago, I had to eject her from my store for loitering.  She was incredibly verbally aggressive, was not always able to talk coherently, and at first, I had thought she was dancing to music that she was listening to, only to realize that her body was actually twitching spasmodically. She was on drugs; I suspected Spice, but was unsure. Spice is an awful drug that impacts every user differently, except for one common factor: almost every user becomes aggressive, usually in a physical manner. She had been difficult to remove from the premises of my cafe, though she did leave after I informed her that I was calling security. The incident did give me warning that she was an aggressive person, which made me want to be the one to handle her, and not one of my staff members, if she ever returned to my cafe. Hence, my staff member calling me out when this young woman showed up again.

The customer that she approached was an easy mark, and had been searching for some change when I interceded. I stepped between my customers and the panhandling girl and told her to leave my store at once. She immediately became aggressive, initially only verbally, which quickly escalated to physically. As a general rule, I tend to not be concerned for my safety, for I practice a variety of martial arts, including practical self defense and muay thai. The girl was holding a hard-cover book, which she decided to swing at me, aiming for my head. I blocked her with my arm easily, but did nothing else, being concerned about the number of customers that were nearby and not wanting to actually touch her if I could help it. After striking at me twice, she headed towards the furthest door, only to swing back around and do a half-body push, or check, before turning around again and heading towards the door. I turned with her and followed her out, witnessing as she angrily brushed one of our doorstops of the edge, tossing it to the ground.

After she was gone, I immediately returned to the register and started taking orders, while waiting for a break to alert security of what had just occurred. What happened next was very interesting to me. Not one of the customers in the area where this incident occurred said anything to me about what had just happened. A couple made remarks to themselves, but no one asked about me, what had happened, or commented on the event at all. This was rather unusual, as I frequently have to deal with some of the more interesting variety of people and have been on the receiving end of quite a few comments (ncluding an "Atta girl") over how I have handled the situations (always positive, often admiring, amazement that I have to deal with it at all, and generally supportive), though none of the situations have been quite as dramatic. It made the near-lack of response from the witnesses more than a little interesting to me, an avid people observer.

As soon as I received a break in the customer line, I let security know what had happened and sent an email to my manager so he was aware. He quickly rang me to ask if I was all right and to discuss follow through. While I was on the phone with him, I was attempting to put away a milk order, both activities which required halting to deal with yet another coffee thief. I quickly informed my manager that I would give him a quick call back, set the phone down, and approached the young teen in the bright green shirt and camo pants, who I have mentioned already, who busy at the condiment bar filling a large coffee cup with creamer and sugar. With a aggravated sigh, I leaned against the condiment bar and asked him if he had purchased coffee from my shop this morning. He said he had done so. I asked him for a time, and he gave me a general "earlier this morning." I informed him that I had been working all morning and didn't rremember seeing him. When, specificallly, did he purchase coffeee from my cafe? He finally settled on a time: 5:00 AM. I nabbed his cup and told him, "That would be a lovely trick, as my cafe is not open at 5:00 AM. Head on out and do not come back in unless you are going to be purchasing coffee." Wth a more than disgruntled attitude and look, the kid left my shop empty handed.

After dealing with him, I returned my manager's call and determined the final steps I was going to be taking to deal with the minor assault I had dealt with that morning. My manager was having a little difficulty wth my reaction, as I had actually found the whole incident with the girl entertaining. I know this stemmed from the fact that it happened to me, someone who knows how to handle herself; if it had occurred to one of my staff members, I would have been absolutely livid. It was more for my staff than for me that I called the police to file an assaut charge on her.

I was so calm about the whole situation as I was talking to the dispatcher that he almost forgot to ask me if I was all right and if paramedics were needed. He promised that a policeman would be there within the next couple of hours, but warned that it there had been a high volume of calls, so it might be a bit. I used the time while I was waiting to finish putting away the orders, write up the events of the day, and to get on my security camera feed to get pictures of the girl, as well as video of the actual event. 

This turned out to not be a quick process, as I was frequently interrupted. The hours went by and the policeman still had not shown. I was tired, for it had been an eventful day and I was now on overtime, and I had a class that I needed to get to in just a few short hours. I called the police dispatch back to see if they could give me an estimated time of arrival for the policeman and a game plan if I had to leave before he could make it to the cafe. Thankfully, it did not come to that. Not too long after I had called the dispatch back, a policeman came in looking for me. He turned out to be one of my cafe's semi-regular customers. He took my statement and pictures I had printed, watched the video feed, and took a copy with him. He also confirmed that I wanted the girl trespassed from not only my shop, but all the other cafes that are in the chain. The officer was pretty sure he knew the girl, recognizing her from other incidents. As before, the officer almost forgot to ask if I was all right because of my calmness and humour regarding the event. As I had no marks and was not injured, it was a moot point anyway. The officer left to file his report and put in the trespass order, and I focused on trying to get myself out of the cafe. 

I was finally just about to leave when the officer returned. It turns out he had found her already and needed me to identify her. I was more than willing to follow through, though I have to admit I was a bit unprepared for how I was getting to the identification location. I had to go in the back of a squad car... not a comfortable experience, especially since I had to get in the car in front of my cafe, which must have made an interesting spectacle for some of those street kids from earlier. The front of a squad car is much more comfortable and interesting than the back, something I can say from personal experience on both counts.

The officer drove me a few blocks, a few blocks in which I really hoped I was not recognized, for that would have been an interesting thing for my regular customers to see, to a parking lot where there was another squad car and two policemen with a girl held up between them, handcuffed. I was very easily able to identify her, and like that she was arrested, with the officer verifying that I wanted to press charges.

The officer than drove me back to my cafe, stopped directly in front of it, with his lights still flashing, and let me out. We talked for a bit, with him giving me some more information regarding the follow-up, and then shook hands. He returned to his car, and I returned to my cafe, to the wide-eyed looks of the customers that noticed and my employees. A couple of the regulars asked what had happened and were told the tale, much to their astonishment. As quicklMy cafe has an abundance of windows, giving us an excellent view of the street, and the activity of the people and vehicles passing by. A young teen in a black leather-style jacket and a beautiful emerald green, button-down shirt purchased a tall coffee. He took advantage of our store's free refill policy a number of times, and then left the store to join the group of teens hanging out on the street corner. Not too long after he left, and after I had played the initial turn in the meter game, another teen male came in. He headed straight for the coffee pots that customers are able to obtain their refills. Now, my cafe has a notorious problem with people handing off coffee cups, retrieving coffee cups from the rubbish bins on the street, or trying to stretch a cup's use past a day; so much so that we took to dating all of our cups. When this new teen tried to obtain a "refill," he was immediately questioned, for we did not recognize him as a customer from the last couple of hours. He showed us the cup, which had the proper date on it, but followed up by explaining that it was his friend's coffee cup. When I asked which friend, he pointed out to the group of kids, in specific a young man wearing a brilliant green shirt and camo pants- someone else who had not entered my cafe that morning. I informed the young man attempting to get coffee that he was not able to get a refill, that if his friend wanted a refill, his friend had to do it himself. I also let him know that I knew exactly who in that crowd had purchased coffee from me that morning. The kid left and stood out on the corner opposite the corner where the group was hanging out, which enabled my staff and I to witness quite an interesting conversation concerning that particular cup of coffee. After much discussion, and what looked like a small argument, there was a moment of stillness.

It was not too much longer before the young man in the black jacket returned to our shop with his cup. He attempted to be coy and clever and asked one of my baristas if we ever wrote the wrong dates on the cups. She just looked at him and flatly told him "No." The excuse of the wrong date was not one these kids were going to be allowed to use. He obtained his coffee and returned to the group, carrying with him the news that if a kid attempted to use a "wrong date" argument with us that it would not achieve the desired result. He was not with the group long before we witnessed the coffee cup making the rounds amongst the teens. We looked at each other in amazement. One of my other baristas exclaimed, "Do they really think that we can't see what they are doing?"

The morning continued to be busy, with us watching the kids as best as we could between steady lines of customers. After some time, another teen boy made his way into my cafe. He was another from the group across the street, and once again had not been in my cafe yet that morning. When he was questioned, he said that his friend had purchased it for him. Considering the history of this particular cup, it was immediately confiscated, for it had not been purchased for him; it had been making the rounds, freely changing hands. Needless to say, he was rather disgruntled, but left with a minimum of fuss. We hoped that would be the end of our issues with those particular teens that day.

Unfortunately, the day only became more interesting. I was back in the kitchen, doing some chores, when one of my baristas informed me that one of our problem girls had just entered the cafe. This particular girl was a physically beautiful young woman, though life was already taking its toll on her. She was tall, about 5'8", a good three inches taller than me. She had fine, Puerto Rican features, black hair, and a body that was painfully skinny. As I came behind the bar, I witnessed her immediately approach some customers and start talking to them. I quickly made my way behind the bar to intercept her, hearing her ask them for money as I did so.

Now, this particular young woman and I already had a small history. Only a couple of weeks ago, I had to eject her from my store for loitering.  She was incredibly verbally aggressive, was not always able to talk coherently, and at first, I had thought she was dancing to music that she was listening to, only to realize that her body was actually twitching spasmodically. She was on drugs; I suspected Spice, but was unsure. Spice is an awful drug that impacts every user differently, except for one common factor: almost every user becomes aggressive, usually in a physical manner. She had been difficult to remove from the premises of my cafe, though she did leave after I informed her that I was calling security. The incident did give me warning that she was an aggressive person, which made me want to be the one to handle her, and not one of my staff members, if she ever returned to my cafe. Hence, my staff member calling me out when this young woman showed up again.

The customer that she approached was an easy mark, and had been searching for some change when I interceded. I stepped between my customers and the panhandling girl and told her to leave my store at once. She immediately became aggressive, initially only verbally, which quickly escalated to physically. As a general rule, I tend to not be concerned for my safety, for I practice a variety of martial arts, including practical self defense and muay thai. The girl was holding a hard-cover book, which she decided to swing at me, aiming for my head. I blocked her with my arm easily, but did nothing else, being concerned about the number of customers that were nearby and not wanting to actually touch her if I could help it. After striking at me twice, she headed towards the furthest door, only to swing back around and do a half-body push, or check, before turning around again and heading towards the door. I turned with her and followed her out, witnessing as she angrily brushed one of our doorstops of the edge, tossing it to the ground.

After she was gone, I immediately returned to the register and started taking orders, while waiting for a break to alert security of what had just occurred. What happened next was very interesting to me. Not one of the customers in the area where this incident occurred said anything to me about what had just happened. A couple made remarks to themselves, but no one asked about me, what had happened, or commented on the event at all. This was rather unusual, as I frequently have to deal with some of the more interesting variety of people and have been on the receiving end of quite a few comments (including an "Atta girl") over how I have handled the situations (always positive, often admiring, amazement that I have to deal with it at all, and generally supportive), though none of the situations have been quite as dramatic. It made the near-lack of response from the witnesses more than a little interesting to me, an avid people observer.
As soon as I received a break in the customer line, I let security know what had happened and sent an email to my manager so he was aware. He quickly rang me to ask if I was all right and to discuss follow through. While I was on the phone with him, I was attempting to put away a milk order, both activities which required halting to deal with yet another coffee thief. I quickly informed my manager that I would give him a quick call back, set the phone down, and approached the young teen in the bright green shirt and camo pants, who I have mentioned already, who busy at the condiment bar filling a large coffee cup with creamer and sugar. With a aggravated sigh, I leaned against the condiment bar and asked him if he had purchased coffee from my shop this morning. He said he had done so. I asked him for a time, and he gave me a general "earlier this morning." I informed him that I had been working all morning and didn't remember seeing him. When, specifically, did he purchase coffee from my cafe? He finally settled on a time: 5:00 AM. I nabbed his cup and told him, "That would be a lovely trick, as my cafe is not open at 5:00 AM. Head on out and do not come back in unless you are going to be purchasing coffee." With a more than disgruntled attitude and look, the kid left my shop empty handed.
After dealing with him, I returned my manager's call and determined the final steps I was going to be taking to deal with the minor assault I had dealt with that morning. My manager was having a little difficulty with my reaction, as I had actually found the whole incident with the girl entertaining. I know this stemmed from the fact that it happened to me, someone who knows how to handle herself; if it had occurred to one of my staff members, I would have been absolutely livid. It was more for my staff than for me that I called the police to file an assault charge on her.
I was so calm about the whole situation as I was talking to the dispatcher that he almost forgot to ask me if I was all right and if paramedics were needed. He promised that a policeman would be there within the next couple of hours, but warned that it there had been a high volume of calls, so it might be a bit. I used the time while I was waiting to finish putting away the orders, write up the events of the day, and to get on my security camera feed to get pictures of the girl, as well as video of the actual event. 
This turned out to not be a quick process, as I was frequently interrupted. The hours went by and the policeman still had not shown. I was tired, for it had been an eventful day and I was now on overtime, and I had a class that I needed to get to in just a few short hours. I called the police dispatch back to see if they could give me an estimated time of arrival for the policeman and a game plan if I had to leave before he could make it to the cafe. Thankfully, it did not come to that. Not too long after I had called the dispatch back, a policeman came in looking for me. He turned out to be one of my cafe's semi-regular customers. He took my statement and pictures I had printed, watched the video feed, and took a copy with him. He also confirmed that I wanted the girl trespassed from not only my shop, but all the other cafes that are in the chain. The officer was pretty sure he knew the girl, recognizing her from other incidents. As before, the officer almost forgot to ask if I was all right because of my calmness and humour regarding the event. As I had no marks and was not injured, it was a moot point anyway. The officer left to file his report and put in the trespass order, and I focused on trying to get myself out of the cafe. 
I was finally just about to leave when the officer returned. It turns out he had found her already and needed me to identify her. I was more than willing to follow through, though I have to admit I was a bit unprepared for how I was getting to the identification location. I had to go in the back of a squad car... not a comfortable experience, especially since I had to get in the car in front of my cafe, which must have made an interesting spectacle for some of those street kids from earlier. The front of a squad car is much more comfortable and interesting than the back, something I can say from personal experience on both counts.
The officer drove me a few blocks, a few blocks in which I really hoped I was not recognized, for that would have been an interesting thing for my regular customers to see, to a parking lot where there was another squad car and two policemen with a girl held up between them, handcuffed. I was very easily able to identify her, and like that she was arrested, with the officer verifying that I wanted to press charges.

The officer than drove me back to my cafe, stopped directly in front of it, with his lights still flashing, and let me out. We talked for a bit, with him giving me some more information regarding the follow-up, and then shook hands. He returned to his car, and I returned to my cafe, to the wide-eyed looks of the customers that noticed and my employees. A couple of the regulars asked what had happened and were told the tale, much to their astonishment. As quickly as I could manage, I finished what I had left to do, and finally, finally made it out of my cafe, with only a little time to spare to clean up before needing to attend my class.
Definitely not a usual day for my cafe.
y as I could manage, I finished what I had left to do, and finally, finally made it out of my cafe, with only a little time to spare to clean up before needing to attend my class.

Definitely not a usual day for my cafe.