UPDATE: After a few emails, I received a fantastic apology from their ownership/management. From Portland Variety:
I totally get it Jen. It’s my fault more than anything for not getting back to you after the email. Im not going to make excuses for myself.
I sincerely apologize for the entire thing and the employee feels terrible about it. The last thing we want is to make anyone feel bad, truly. Especially since they are buying our product, thats why I didn’t understand it at first. I also skip the milk in my coffee so I can eat a pastry with it. I’m not reaching out now because of other people but because I now realize how upset you were. Makes me feel pretty bad as well
I really hope we can somehow make it up to you. Not for any other reason than to prove to you that we appreciate your business and don’t want you to be upset.
Maybe an anonymous donation of some sort to a favourite charity or a cookie delivery for a certain school or your office. Any ideas would help.
Really sorry for this whole thing and hope you are having a better day.
Disclaimer: I want you all to know that before I wrote this blog post, I sent an email to the manager, stopped in to ask to speak to the manager, and left my number for her to call me. Over a week later, I still haven’t received a response.
Presently, in the state of life that I’m in, I’m taking a morning pill (prenatal), which requires me to not eat food until at least an hour after taking it. And, for those of you who haven’t been in their second trimester of pregnancy, the hunger is real. Like, sometimes people start to look like donuts and I consider biting my desk, real. Before I switched to this specific prenatal (which is hopefully going to help get my iron back on track), I was able to eat breakfast before I left for my 70-minute commute to work. But now, now I starve.
Because of this, sometimes, my cravings take control and I allow myself to carb-out on my breakfast. I don’t regret it one bit because I can have salad or soup for lunch and it’s not everyday. Plus, if I could eat croissants all day everyday for the rest of my life, I would die happy. And last Monday was no exception.
After dropping off my car at the shop to get its transmission fixed, and then hopping on the GO Train, and then hitting up a cab, I impulsively got out and went to Portland Variety, a cool and albeit “trendy” coffee place on King West. I have loved this place since I was introduced to it; when I discovered they serve Grey Owl cheese on their charcuterie board; when I had their fresh squeezed juice; when I ate their chocolate chip walnut cookie, my heart exploded with delight. Pretty much everything I have ever had there, I loved. And I loved the vibe and the decor. I loved it all. I loved Portland Variety. That is, until last week.
So with my mind on my croissant and my money on my latte, there it was, a Portuguese Custard Tart. The kind of tart that I dream of. I got up to the counter and placed my order, “I would like a small latte with skim milk, a butter croissant, and a custard tart” I said politely and I’m sure, excitedly.
What happened next, nearly brought this hyper-emotional pregnant lady to tears. The barista or whatever they are there, repeated “did you want skim milk in your latte?” Which seemed to be a fair comment because I ordered a couple of things, so I confirmed. He then turned his head to the customer that was two behind me and said, “Skim milk to make up for the rest of her order.” And then he laughed. And the customer laughed. What’s that all about?
“Skim milk to make up for the rest of her order.”
“That was rude.” I said, impulsively and loudly. But since I was fighting the urge to cry from my embarrassment and humiliation, I said and did nothing else in the moment.
This man, for some reason, felt like he had the right to shame me for my order.
First of all, how dare he.
Second, how dare he.
Third, HOW DARE HE.
While all of that deliciousness was to be consumed by me, he didn’t know that I wasn’t sharing. He didn’t know that I prefer skim milk to all other milks. He didn’t have a right in anyway to purposely embarrass me in front of a line of people for ordering what I felt like ordering. This coward of a man felt the need to shame a customer (a pregnant customer to boot) for their order AND was pretty proud of himself about it. He thought he had the right to make fun of a customer. He judged me. He’s the worst.
And the thing is, I can order whatever I goddamn well please and you can’t judge me – pregnant, not pregnant, fat or skinny, I can eat what I want to eat and this jerkstore with his popped collar (yes, his collar is always popped in 2016) can go f-himself.
The worst part? Portland Variety’s management has done nothing. They didn’t respond to my email, they didn’t come see me when I popped in, and they didn’t call me back. They should be ashamed of their staff, and their customer service.