The kids wanted to round a visit to the Science Museum off with a strawberry milkshake. The Baristas at Shivaji Park was the natural choice. The drink arrived in a long slender glass. In his haste to get at it, the younger one knocked at the glass, it tottered, and was in a dozen pieces even before anyone could react. The tears were averted by giving him my drink.
But apologising to the waiter was harder still, specially when he brushed aside our request to put the cost of the glass on our bill.
When the bill came, we found the milkshake hadn’t even been billed.
“Why?”, asked the hubby.
“Because you did not get to enjoy the milkshake”, said the man in charge of the outlet.
“But that was our fault, not yours.”
“But, sir, you did not enjoy the milkshake. How can we charge for it.”
“If we hadn’t dropped the glass, we would have definitely enjoyed it.”
“That may be the case, but you never enjoyed the drink, so we cannot charge you for it.”
The man would not budge, and ultimately even my rather persuasive husband could not do much about it.
If this is not customer service, I don’t know what is.
And one thing is for sure. Though I prefer the coffee latte churned out by a competing chain of coffee shops, it is Barista I am going to favour from now on.