Black-balled Medicine

I'm boycotting Black Medicine. Well, I occasionally use the Marchmont branch but not Nicolson Street. It's been my preferred coffee shop since I first discovered it; I've led many wayward souls to its hard seating, extolling the virtues of illy coffee to anyone who would listen... but no more!

An important part of the Black Medicine Experience has always been the staff. Even when there's rapid turnover, over the summer perhaps, there will always be a core team who are competent and friendly - even if only to regulars. People like Natalie or Stewart, coming and going over the years, have been the eye of the staffing storm, lending a tone of consistency and (almost) professionalism to the place and helping to keep the atmosphere welcoming. It's gone now, the atmosphere. Certain members of staff (everyone knows who I'm talking about here, except perhaps the people under discussion) have spoiled it with their accents, cliqueyness, omnipresence and need to change the status quo.

Black Medicine NO LONGER SERVES ILLY COFFEE!

I can't count the number of times I've heard people say that they will travel great distances to get illy, and Black Medicine has undoubtably received a great deal of custom because of their choice of coffee. However, a certain faction has nagged the management enough (and that must mean a truckload of nagging because they do not give easily to change) that the coffee has changed. According to these people, illy is a shoddy and inferior blend. They're clearly insane, on top of being irritating mingers.

This has become such an issue for me that I have ended up with a Starbucks Card. I may disagree with them on principle - being Giant Corporate Evil, but at least they are fairly consistent and inevitably friendly.

Nobody is more upset by this situation than I am...

So, last Friday I was walking up the road with my Frappucino when I saw Andrew lurking outside the Dread Cafe, so I stood about chatting to him for a while. Before we had a change to muster resistance, a scary man with a squint and teeth that would make a dentist cry accosted us. We were expecting a quick sob story followed by a request for money but instead received a 15 minute tale of woe - he's not a junkie although he used to be, he doesn't drink anymore, he's got a job out of town and needs a bus pass and would we like to buy his PS1 which Cash Generator wouldn't take because they apparently don't sell them anymore?

A little while later I saw him harassing the staff in Jordan Valley. They were less patient; I think he may have been by that point as well if nobody wanted to give him ten quid for his toy.

I finally got someone to sit for my cloning experiments. It went so smoothly I'm kinda disappointed now.

Reasons never to work with the public

Overheard in Starbucks, Hunter's Square:

American Woman: "Do you take British Pounds?"

Barrista: "Errr, yes?"

(pause)

B: "Hang on, do you mean British Pounds or Irish Punds?"

(American Woman looks at Barrista as if he is insane)

AW: "English Pounds"

B: "Then, yes. Yes, we do."

(American Woman goes on to order, amongst other things, an expresso...)

B: "So, how long have you been in Edinburgh?"

AW: "Since yesterday."

(American Woman is buying a mug and Barrista is wrapping it)

B: "Where are you staying?"

(American Woman sounds terrified)

AW: "Why do you want to know!?"

B: "Um, just making small talk?”

Money really doesn't buy happiness?

Edinburgh's local bus company, Lothian Buses, is one of the major frustrations of my life. The british obsession with weather - understandable when you think about how miserable and unpredictable it is - can be matched by the Edinbourgeois need to rant about the buses. Guess why, then? In spite of this, the company keep being awarded titles like Best Bus Company in Britain. Nobody ever understands why, and it makes us wonder just how bad other services must be!

As well as the stream of awards they keep sticking on the side of the buses, there is often a recruitment sign on the back, currently telling us that the average salary for a bus driver is £24,000pa. Since this is, rarely for anything outside London it seems, actually in the region of the UK Average, you'd think these drivers might be quite happy. And of course you would be wrong. Most drivers of Lothian Buses are grumpy, obstructive, and generally elicit the same range of responses as the weather.

How is it, then, that employees of Starbucks, who will be getting half of that wage while dashing about in a hot, confined space while suffering a barrage of Stupid Customers (no, I'm not implying that there is any other kind) and knowing all the time that they are a part of an EVIL giant corporation can be so consistently cheery!? Lothian Buses driver: pots o' cash, sit down all day, miserable barstewards. Starbucks barrista: half the cash, busy and stressed, ALWAYS HAPPY AND HELPFUL. I'm consistently amazed by the Starbuckers, as no other coffee emporium seems able to get their staff to smile more than fleetingly. Are the drugging the coffee? Who knows, but i want some.