How Times Have Changed

One afternoon last week I went to one of my favorite coffee shops in town to relax while reading a book that I picked up from the local library, and of course for their delicious coffee.  These past couple of weeks I’ve had lots of time to sit outside coffee shops and catch up on my reading in the middle of the day like somebody unemployed.  I technically have a job; however, due to surgery I had on June 3 to remove a benign tumor from my left hand, I am off work for a few weeks.  I promise to share that anecdote with you at a later time. 

I was sitting inside the shop enjoying my dark roast coffee with my open book.  My attention was divided between reading, background fan noise, and a conversation between the barista and the manager.  I happened to overhear the barista asking the manager what the WIFI code was; the manager’s reply contained the word coffee.  I wasn’t paying close attention as the revealing of the password did not interest me.  Then what I heard after that sparked my undivided attention.  

I heard the 18 year old looking barista ask for help in spelling the word coffee.  At that particular moment I was unsure as to which part of that conversation rendered me gobsmacked.  Was it the part where the barista asked his boss the WIFI password so he could spend his shift using internet on his phone, or was it that he could not spell the word coffee without assistance? 

When I was in my early 20s I worked part time at a dress shop in downtown Halifax, Nova Scotia while I was a full time student at Dalhousie University.  That was before texting existed and cell phones were a rarity.  So if I compared that situation to what I witnessed today it would be similar to asking my boss twenty years ago if I could check my email, or log onto chat room on the store POS system computer.  I doubt I would have kept my weekend job had that actually happened. 

I looked around the coffee shop and noticed grains of sugar scattered over the sugar and creamer counter, unwiped tables, and dirty light switch plates.  The barista was oblivious to the uncleanliness and was more concerned with gaining access to the WIFI code.  I shook my head as I continued to read my book and sip my coffee.

Looking back to my employment history as a part time dress shop clerk in 1998, I recall assigned tasks to complete during the lull periods.  For instance, there were sweaters that required folding, shelves that needed dusting, and dresses that necessitated ironing.  If I was a barista in that coffee shop it would be absolutely spotless.  How times and job descriptions have changed since I was 20.  I guess as long as baristas know how to make and serve coffee it doesn’t matter if they know how to spell coffee.