dumb and dumber

remember that overly amorous newbie who was being transferred to my bux because of her bizarre love triangle?
well, i was sure she and bitter old dude would be at each other's throats in seconds because bitter old dude is the resident drama queen and would rather die than share his crown, but imagine my surprise when amorous newbie first made enemies with...the talker!
seems they both suffer from that fatal disease: last word-itis (it's fatal because the rest of the baristas are going to kill them if they keep at it).

time has only increased the talker's delusions of popularity. he doesn't just follow baristas around and talk their heads off - now he's performing for us. he takes every chance to dazzle us with his biting (translation: dumb) wit and keen (translation: full of himself) perspective.
i was taking a ten in the backroom when he was restocking cups. now, most people come in the backroom, grab whatever sleeve of cups they need, and are back out on the floor in a matter of seconds. but not the talker.
"which one do i need - oh there are the grande cups! you little devils thought you were hiding from me didn't you? you can't hide from me! i'll hunt you down until i find every last one of you! wait, you're not a sleeve of grande cups! what's a sleeve of tall cups doing in the grande cup box? brat! this is so weird! i was stocking grande cups and there's a sleeve of tall cups hiding in the box!"

and that's the abridged version.

it's also why the rest of us don't try and get the last word in with the talker: because it would only invite another twenty pages of dialogue from him.
amorous newbie, on the other hand, can't live unless the last statement of a conversation comes from her lips, which the talker takes as a request for him to talk some more. so she hits him with another crude last word and he responds with a bitchy oratory.
believe me, it's a vicious cycle.

it's gotten so bad that newly promoted manager has threatened to send one or both of them home with write-ups.

so now their conversations sound like this:
the talker: "i'm not getting sent home because of you - i need all my hours."
amorous newbie: "what, like i don't need mine?"
the talker: "well, it's because of you that the manager has threatened to send us home."
amorous newbie: "yeah - like you're some innocent bystander."
the talker: "all i'm saying is i never had this problem before you were transferred here."
amorous newbie: "how i wish that was all you were saying. dude! you never shut your mouth."
the talker: "me? what about you? you talk more than anyone i've ever met."
amorous newbie: "well you should stand in front of a mirror and get self-acquainted."
the talker: "what? you don't even make sense!"
amorous newbie: "just because you don't get it doesn't mean i don't make sense."
the talker: "whatever. just quit talking to me. i don't want to get sent home because of you."
amorous newbie: "what, like i want to get sent home?"
and on, and on, and on....

barista rant: don't ask me to put "just a touch" of cinnamon powder in your latte, and then complain that i didn't add enough. first off - there's cinnamon powder at the condiment bar, so you should be the one adding it to your drink. second - what the hell do you think "just a touch" means? because when you twisted the top off the cinnamon powder container and dumped about an inch into your drink, i would suggest that is far more than "just a touch".