“BEEDEEBEEDEEBEEDEEP. Welcome. What can I get for you today?”
“Yeah, I’d like a dark roast, a latte, and one of them scones.”
“BEEDEEBEEDEEp, what size would you like? *sigh* For the love of C3-PO. You humans are not particularly fond of size specification. BEEDEEP.”
“What size you got?”
“12, 16, 20 ounces. BEEDEEBEEDEE. Or if you operate on a pound only system, 3/4 pound, 1 pound, and pound and a quarter, sir.”
“Okay, I’ll take the medium.”
“Room for cream in the coffee, sir, or do you take it black?”
(talking on cell phone, looks over) “Aah…. yes.”
“Please specify now if you have a preference of skim, 2%, whole, or soy in your mixed beverage. BEEDEEDEEDEEDEEP”
“Uh, just give me whatever.”
grabs 2% milk out of cooler. thunka thunka, click click…. Clunk… Zzzzzzzzzip. Pour. Swish, swish.. thunk thunk thunk… as milk is steaming:
“Actually, could you use skim in the latte?”
grabs skim milk out of cooler. thunka thunka, click click…. Clunk… Zzzzzzzzzip. Pour. Swish, swish.. thunk thunk thunk…
“There you are sir, that will be $6. BEEDEEBEEDEEBEEDEEP”
“Do you take credit cards?”
“No sir, I apologize. There is a cash machine across the street that you will have to try.”
Sounds like fun, huh? You can do it too! Work at a coffee shop. Rinse, lather, and repeat about 100 times per day, and this, my friends, is the recipe to get yourself a into robot barista coma of your very own.
As the girl version of, BEEP, you, I understand your pain. Or rather, the discomfort felt in your upper right hand feeling emulator area. Perhaps, BEEP, since the human customers are unable to adapt to simple ordering techniques, we should be reprogrammed to show robotic sympathy for their low level intelligence rather than have it wear on our artificial patience and drain our batteries? BEEP. I'll drive to the factory if you wanna come!