Caribou: A Eulogy

Well, until my daughter chooses to nap on a regular basis, there will be no regular blog postings.  Sorry, avid readers!!  (Bahaha...avid readers of my blog....)

I received some incredibly sad news the other day:  The Caribou Coffee which I worked at and frequented for what felt like a lifetime will be permanently shutting its doors as of this Sunday at noon. 

Let's be honest, Caribou was never exactly a stellar work environment when you viewed it from the "Does corporate take care of their underlings?" viewpoint.  For starters, there were no breaks.  Ever.  How they wiggled around that whole legal issue was the whole "flexible employer" bit that they wrote into their handbook - "Hey, you can take your break whenever you want!  We won't schedule you a break 'cause we don't want to hold you down like that.  Aren't we awesome?!"  Well, not quite, 'cause in what retail or food service position can you possibly find time to sit down and get some food in your system?  No, avid readers, the only time you got a break was if you were a smoker - or when you worked with someone who you could trust behind the counter alone for more than five minutes.  Secondly, Caribou always was looking for a way to dock your pay.  Whether you decided to move up the corporate ladder (and therefore not receive tips), or stay a shift supervisor (and get cut in wages if you worked with another shift supervisor), corporate got really creative at unnecessarily pinching your pennies out of your pocket. 

Now, I - unlike my friends and former coworkers - did not lose my job.  I left my shift supervisor position at Caribou a while back when I got a position at Trader Joe's.  I made the switch for the main motivator of any work-related decision:  TJ's paid me a whole lot more, both in actual dolla dolla bills and in benefits.  But I found myself constantly coming back to Caribou to visit and work on my homework for my graduate degree, and it wasn't just 'cause you got unlimited refills on coffee when you stuck around for hours at a time.  It was all about the people.  The Caribou that I worked at was very good at one thing in particular, and that was picking the best of the best people to work there.  I truly enjoyed working there because I knew that I would always leave with a smile on my face.  The employees were quirky, hilarious, hard-working, and (usually) highly intelligent.

And the customers?  Well, there's always a couple that will get under your skin.  I always joked with people that I would one day write a book called The Barista Chronicles, simply because 1.) You couldn't make the !@#$ up that I've seen and heard from people, and 2.) It's not like I worked at a bar - you couldn't blame the crazy on one too many shots. 

Here's a fun example that, I swear to you, I will never forget as long as I live.  It was a snowy day during the holiday season, so shopping was in full-force and there were a bunch of non-regulars in our store that wanted their large, white chocolate, peppermint mochas fifteen minutes ago.  I was working with two newer employees, and we had a full lobby and a line halfway to the door.  I'm working on register and the other two employees were doing a pretty good job at working a double person bar.  Up walks a woman in her late-fifties.  She was pretty put-together - long, white hair, make-up was on flawlessly, wearing a dress coat with a nicer purse.  She put her purse on the counter and angrily spat her order at me, then huffed as I gave her the price of her drink with a big ol' smile on my face (sorry, I refuse to let grumpy customers make me grumpy...and besides, my happiness usually just peeved them off more, and I enjoyed that).  She paid (and didn't tip), then moved to the pick-up counter.  While I was taking the next customer's order, I heard her snap at my coworkers - "Could you hurry up please?!  I have a baby in the car."

Now, it was snowing outside.  Heavily.  And this woman had four drinks in front of hers that had to be made.  My two coworkers looked at me absolutely horrified.  I told them to both get on register and I would take care of it - simply because I wouldn't take her crap.  I KNEW she didn't have a baby with her - she just knew the magic words to get her froo-froo drink without having to wait.  So, I quickly served up her beverage, and she said "Oh, I didn't want you to put me before anyone else."  I responded curtly with "Well, I sure wouldn't want to potentially endanger a life because your drink took too long."  She scooped her drink up and went to sit a high-top table with her husband.  At no point did a baby come into the picture.  What a shocker. 

So, while I was out in the lobby, wiping down tables and refilling sugar canisters, the woman comes back up to me and barks -

"I just want to let you know that we are leaving, because I don't like sitting at a table that's so high that it makes me feel like I'm sitting on a perch." 

"...Um, alright.  Well, enjoy the rest of your day!"

"You know, you really should do something about all of these college students.  Taking up tables all day with their books..."

*suppressed snort of laughter*

"I'm serious!  You should ban them from your shop."

At this point, I just couldn't deal with it anymore.  "Right.  'Cause that will work out great in a college town."

Like I said, you can't make this up. 

But, there will also be the customers that I will never, ever forget because of how they touched my life.  Like Hank - the highly intelligent, highly sarcastic, and all around amazing guy who ordered a small cup of coffee in his handmade mug (and the older the "sludge" at the bottom of the pot, the better).  Hank is the kind of guy that you truly look forward to seeing at work, because you could choose the level of conversation you wanted to have.  If you wanted a mindless chat about how much you couldn't stand your hours being slashed, you've got it.  If you wanted an intellectual conversation about the polarization of the House and the Senate, you could pick his brain for hours.  Or Tony - the regular who owned the Hallmark across the plaza.  He would go out of his way to bring us balloons, flowers, or even chocolate, just because he appreciated our smiles at the start of his day. 

All in all, the closing of Caribou is a forced closing of a wonderful chapter in my life:

• Caribou was the first place I went to when my husband deployed to Afghanistan, because I knew Joe and Alex would be there to give me a hug, let me awkwardly cry, and make me a kick-ass, super-fatty cup of hot chocolate.  
• Lauren and I shared many beers at the BWW's across the street after long closes, 'cause we knew we could trust each other enough to bitch about work just long enough so it would feel good, but then move on to new topics quick enough where we could leave the night on a fantastic note.  
• Kevin and I shared way, way too many awkward laughs behind the counter while discussing the most horrific B-movies we had ever seen (followed by in-depth conversations about religion and history).  
• Greg...well, it always amazed me that Greg never got fired.  Work was just way too damn fun when he was around.  Between hiding timers for the next shift to have to find, freezing peoples' tips (I think our buddy Ryan even put some in jello at one point)...there was no end to the madness.
• Jan had a way of reminding me that you could be polite to people without taking any of their crap, and I loved every minute I worked with her.  

If I had a horrible day, I went to Caribou.  If I needed to study, I went to Caribou.  If I wanted to share in the joy of something such as finishing my masters project or learning I was pregnant, I went to Caribou.  I didn't even mind helping people close up shop so we could all get out early to grab a drink at Limelight - it was just that kind of place. 

When I look back on my life and I reflect on all of the nonsense I had to go thru while I sifted through my twenties, I will always, always remember the coffee shop and the Bou crew with nothing but the most profound fondness in my heart.  I'm going to miss that place and people there terribly.