“There’s no point crying over spilt milk…spilt lattes though?”

For someone as clumsy as me I’m surprised I haven’t broken anything.  Aside from my leg, a phone, many many cups…

I should clarify really. While working at the tea shop I haven’t broken anything. Yet. True to form though I’ve had multiple mishaps…

I’ve had more burns from making pots of tea or heating up cups than I think is humanly possible. I’ve spilt large lattes over myself. I’ve spilt tea when I’m carrying a tray. Coffee tends to go flying if I’m in the area. Fortunately I’ve only injured myself and not a customer.

When you’ve had to hide in the back room a couple of times, with kitchen roll that’s dripping in cold water on your hip, in a desperate attempt to stop the pain from the burn, while trying to bring yourself to go back to the front to continue serving with a smile on your face like nothing has happened, you start to get used to it.

Those little splashes of boiling water that happen on most shifts you can start to shrug off fairly quickly.

The pain isn’t the worst thing anymore. It’s more knowing that you have to painstakingly clean up the liquid that has gone everywhere (seriously how did it get on the till?!) and remake the drinks – delaying the whole process. All the while trying not to slip over because the floor is wet.

It’s never just a cup of water you spill either. Those glasses seem to be glued to the tray. I can also guarantee that you won’t spill the drink of the lovely little old couple sat inside, happy to watch the world go by as they wait and don’t mind a little coffee on the saucer. It’s always a large very complicated coffee that was ordered by the Very Important Looking Person who is sat tapping away on their iPad and takes no prisoners…

Some customers, no matter how many times you apologise for your mishap, will never be happy about the delay or slight spillage.

That can feel pretty soul destroying occasionally. Trying your hardest to get an order done only to spill it and when you do manage to serve it, having the look of judgement because of your soaking wet, coffee stained shirt.

At the end of the day, there really is no point crying over spilt milk.

Actually, I’ve spilt that too…

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