“Get out to the registers, Mike,” my boss Crystal encouraged me. “And be sure to make eye contact and connect with conversation.”

I had heard those words on the training video, but I was more concerned with just handling the cash so that I did not make a perfect fool of myself. Unfortunately, now the kids from school arrived.

Joann came over to me, though, and helped me put the drawer in.

“The computer will show you the correct change, and the great thing is that the Guest² will see the numbers, too, so they can catch you if you get it wrong. You will do fine, Mike.”

5

“But I’m terrible with money.”

“So were my first two husbands. Just let the register do the work.”

I smiled. That was a good mantra.³

A guy stepped up to my register to order. He had no idea that he was dealing with a person who had never done this before.

“I want a Tall Mocha.”

10

I called down to Tawana, an attractive but combative barista on the espresso bar: “Tall Mocha.”

“Tall Mocha,” Tawana called back to me, confirming that she had gotten the order right.

I looked at the register. On the screen read the words “Tall” and “Mocha,” just like on the computer training module. I jabbed at them with my finger. Sure enough, it worked, and the price came up on my screen.

The guy handed me five dollars.

The screen displayed the option “Five dollars” in a box, so I punched the box.

15

Then, the register opened, and the screen displayed the exact change I should hand the guy: $2.73. I dug out the change from my drawer. The guy looked at it and stuck it in his pocket and made his way to the espresso bar to pick up his drink.

My screen, about the size of a small television, read, “Close your drawer.”

I closed my drawer, and said to myself, Hey, you can do this!

Then, the next Guest stepped up, a young lady who was clearly pregnant.

“Just a Decaf Tall Coffee,” she said.

20

I punched in Tall, took her money, gave her the change, closed the drawer, and turned to get a cup of coffee for her. Fresh coffee was right behind me, with the cups. I gave one to her.

She gave me a big smile, as though I were already a friend. “My name’s Rachel. I have another child on the way. I have to stick to Decaf for a while. Can’t wait to get back on the hard stuff.”

I had a sudden realization that people might treat me the way they were said to treat bartenders. . . . They wanted to engage with someone serving them the good stuff. The afternoon went surprisingly well, despite the constant stream of customers.

As evening fell, it got even busier, but Joann came over a couple of times to help me out. The line moved smoothly, with people ordering Single Pump Mocha or Tall Latte. I was supposed to call out the size, name of drink, and any “customizing” such as One Tall One Pump Mocha. Often I would get the order wrong and start with One Pump Mocha, forgetting to call the size . . . or call for a Tall Latte forgetting to mention the Guest wanted it with skim milk. Sometimes, Guests would order Single Pump Mocha, or they would order a drink backward, starting with the milk, then the syrup, then the size, and I would repeat what they said and call it out to Tawana. Tawana would correct me at the top of her lungs, putting the order in the right way. It was humiliating for me, but I learned fast.

Also, it was a gift to me that Tawana had such a large, commanding voice. I had been worried about getting the orders straight, and I never missed Tawana’s powerful calls. And I found that by leaning over the register, closer to the Guests, I could also hear them clearly.

25

“Ask if you have any questions,” Joann said. “Just ask.”

And I did. I found that the Guests didn’t seem to mind helping me get their request just right.

That night, around 7:00 p.m., I was surprised to see the store grow really busy. I had thought coffee was something you picked up on the way to work, but it clearly was now an essential pick-me-up⁴ on the way home as well. I noticed a businessman enter the store and join the growing line. When I had been on the other side of the bar, I had worked so hard just to get a prospective client like this well-dressed man to return a call. Now, my customers were literally waiting in line for my services, I thought to myself. How funny.

The businessman stepped up in line and told me, “Double Macchiato.”

This was Starbucks language. I had a hard time figuring out what it translated to on the cash register screen. I started to feel flushed as I punched at various combinations incorrectly.

30

“You are new here, right?” the man asked. I looked at him. Was he going to complain to Crystal and get me fired on my first day at the register?

But he smiled at my look of panic.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it.”

He actually took the time to encourage me. Wow. I looked back at the screen with a renewed clarity of mind. Double Macchiato. Hit Tall, then Macchiato. Simple.

The businessman wasn’t the only one to try to set me at ease.

35

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” one lady said.

Another guy with an open shirt who looked like a hippie commented, “I’m glad to see they are hiring older people.”

Older?! Okay, so I wasn’t so happy with this comment, but I appreciated his attitude. There was no denying it: I was older, at least a generation or two older than most Partners⁵ so it was good to be welcomed even if it was for my conspicuous seniority.

Around eight o’clock, it started to get even busier. I had not realized that people had made Starbucks a part of their nightlife. Crowds of young people were piling in to share time with one another over their Lattes.

Focus, I reminded myself: You know how this works. Punch the right button, call out the order, make the right change, smile.