I was a barista for years — these are 4 things we're thinking but won't tell you - The Mirror

I worked in cafes for seven years and in that time I developed my own coping mechanisms for rude customers

My stint in the hospitality sector has left me convinced that everyone should be required to spend at least a year serving the public. Be it retail or hospitality, I'm not fussed, but I genuinely believe it ought to be legislated.

The sheer audacity and impoliteness of some individuals is something you have to witness to fully comprehend.

Once you've been on the receiving end, you commit yourself to being the epitome of a good customer. If everyone adopted this mindset, our world would be a more considerate and efficient place.

Over seven years, I worked as a barista in two different cities and witnessed all sorts. My colleagues and I always maintained a polite and welcoming demeanour towards customers, but beneath the surface, we were simmering cauldrons of fury, biding our time until the rude patrons departed and we could gossip about them.

Four things stick out from my lengthy tenure behind the coffee machine, and even though I've since moved on, they remain vivid in my memory.

Don't pretend to be a regular if you're not

Baristas are a bit like skittish cats. You need to let them approach you.

Don't waltz into my café twice in two months and ask for 'the usual. ' I don't know who you are, or what your preferred beverage is, and now we're both stuck in an awkward situation. The worst part is it's up to me to defuse the tension.

Instead, if you're a familiar face, have faith that I'll memorise your order and, provided you stick to it, I'll have it ready and waiting at the counter when I spot you heading down the street. These perks for loyal customers are earned through your barista's recognition — they cannot be insisted upon.

Let me work in peace

Imagine this scenario. It's 7am (I've been awake since 5am, and chances are you have as well).

You place your coffee order at the till, the receipt printer relays it to me and I add it to the queue behind the 25 other beverages requested by the equally knackered customers who arrived before you. I'm in the zone — extracting espresso shots, steaming milk, attempting to remember basic breathing — whilst working through as many orders as physically possible.

From the periphery of my vision, I notice you eyeing me from the other side of the café, like a bloke in a dodgy boozer. You amble towards the machine and fix your gaze upon me as I start to sweat over the milk pitcher.

I place a coffee on the counter and announce, "Flat white for Richard."

You enquire, "Is that a dry cappuccino for Sandra?" I explode you with my mind.

We judge your coffee

It's unfortunate, but it's reality. I don't mean we criticise if you fancy your flat white with soy milk, or if you'd rather have a half shot instead of a full one.

However, if you request something utterly insane, trust me — we are absolutely judging. I'm referring to concoctions like a half-shot decaf, half-shot full-caff, dry soy cappuccino. Sure, I'll whip it up for you, but I'll be annoyed about it and I'll definitely gossip my colleagues about it.

In fact, if you order anything 'dry', I'm silently judging you. Time to grow up.

If you're mean to me, I'll be mean back

There's an old adage that says you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. I can't vouch for that, but when I was in the hospitality industry, I had my own motto: BGD or "b**** gets decaf."

This was reserved solely for the most vile customers, the truly horrid people. I never let a single snide remark get under my skin — everyone has off days.

But if you're consistently rude to me or my coworkers, then there's a fair chance you're getting served decaf. Or perhaps I 'forgot' to add your sugar?

Or maybe I let your espresso shot run a tad too long?

None of these actions are harmful, or even noticeable really, but I knew — and it gave me a small sense of satisfaction while being treated like the muck on your shoe.