Have I ever wanted to hang my DM? No, because that's too gentle, but I've wanted to tie her down, whip out some knives, and go Dexter on her ass.
For quite a while, we had a really cool DM. He was nice, he was laid back, he wore the same uniform we wear because he felt it was fair. Good guy. If we were slammed when he showed up for a visit, he'd jump behind the bar and help out, and not go over DM-visit stuff until we got the line down. We all enjoyed his visits. And then... he moved away.
Enter the DM from hell. I met her for 30 seconds; we set up a date and time for an official visit and that was it, so I had no idea what I was in for.
Visit day comes. We're scheduled for a two-hour visit; for thirty minutes of that time I'm the only barista working. Keep in mind that it was during a time frame that is normally almost custy-free. NORMALLY.
On this particular day, about 30 seconds before Hell's DM showed up, a man arrived and placed an eight-drink order. I'm thinking "Ok, no big deal, there's nobody else in line, and I'm really fast on the bar. No problem."
Hell's DM walks in as I'm steaming milk for two of his lattes. I greet her and say, "Just give me a minute, I've got eight drinks to make an I'll be right there." (I'm such an optimistic fool.)
So of course someone else steps up to the counter to order. "Hi, I'll be with you in just a sec," I call out. Custy has no problem with this. I jump over to the register while some shots are pulling, take their order and payment, and jump back over to the bar to keep working on the first order and start the next one. And then ANOTHER custy steps up to the order counter. "Hi, I'll be right with you," I call. I queue the second custy's shots, jump over to the register to take the third custy's order, then jump back to the bar....rinse, repeat. And repeat again. Aaaaand repeat AGAIN.
This random, out-of-nowhere rush lasted a full thirty minutes, long enough for the next barista scheduled to show up and take over register so I could stay on bar and knock out what was now a pretty sizable drink queue. Which I did, in my usual expedient manner, smiling at custies and apologizing for the wait the entire time. (I fucking hate people, but I am an OUTSTANDING actor. You would never ever know that I'm screaming inside.)
Right about now you might be wondering, where in creation is Hell's DM?!? I'll tell you. She was sitting at one of our cafe tables, observing my service and bar skills. For thirty minutes.
When I finally sat down (which I did NOT do until after cleaning up the messy aftermath of the rush, because I may be the department head but I don't dump messes on my underlings, 'cause I'm not a dick), pretty much the first thing Hell's DM said to me was, "Do you know about the three-minute rule?"
Anyone who wears a green apron to make coffee at work knows, corporate's expectation is a three-minute maximum wait, from when the custy steps into line until they are handed their drink. It's an expectation. Doesn't always work out, for pretty obvious reasons.
I replied that yes, of course I knew the rule. Hell's DM counters with, "Well, did you realize that it took six minutes for your first customer to get his order?"
HOLY FUCKING SHIT ON A STICK!! Yeah, he waited six minutes. For EIGHT FUCKING DRINKS. That means I made eight drinks in LESS than six minutes, because it took at least a full minute to take his order, mark his cups, tender his payment, and give him his receipt. So eight drinks in five minutes. (Five minutes in which I was ALSO greeting other custies, and ringing them up, AND making their drinks beside the first guy's.) THAT'S REALLY FUCKING FAST. And for that matter, if this fuckstick was so deeply concerned about customer wait time, why in FUCK didn't her ass jump behind the bar and, oh I dunno, FUCKING HELP ME???
So...yeah. She definitely deserves the full Dexter treatment.
/rant over, sorry. o_O