A day in the life of a barista and food service employee is pretty straightforward: we greet customers, take their coffee and food orders, maybe engage in small talk, crack a few lighthearted jokes with regular customers and then on to the next person.

At times, these routines can feel mind-numbingly monotonous and I watch the clock count down the minutes until I am free to walk out those doors, but, for the most part, I really enjoy my job.

I tried taking the path of a professional in the counseling field — which lasted just one grueling, measly year — and I found out that I really disliked being told to follow rigid, outdated rules that hindered the health of clients. I even tried the office-style career in counseling, and that was a more miserable endeavor.

I can say with absolute certainty that my job with the coffee shop was the right decision for my happiness, health and sanity (and the fact that I actually make more money as a barista is just a plus).

As for the rest of my coworkers, we are all close in age and the majority of us have college degrees or extensive experience in other trades. Some are even parents.

Working in a specialty coffee shop in a wealthier area definitely comes with frustrations. Many of our customers are well-off and can afford a $5-plus coffee habit. I will say that in no way do I think that having money and a different kind of lifestyle is anything to be judged for. Most of our customers are really cool people and treat people just as kind and equally as they would want to be treated.

But, with the upper-class clients we tend to attract, and the fact that we are in a touristy area of upstate New York, we, unfortunately, have to deal with the less than pleasant customers who look down upon food service careers.

Usually, these run-ins can be handled smoothly and we just do our best to make sure the customer gets a drink they enjoy and won’t come back to complain. Other times, I feel like I have to physically use up any strength I have in order to remain calm (and not toss hot coffee over their head).

I have had a customer condescendingly call me “sweetie” and explain that a 20-ounce, iced cappuccino exists. I’m sorry to burst everyone’s bubbles, but nope... a cappuccino has only ever been one size — six-ounces to be exact.

I cannot express how insulted I have been when a customer impatiently tells me that they wanted a cheese Danish, not an almond croissant, while they tap on the glass of the pastry case, very clearly pointing to the croissant (on a day that we had no cheese Danish, at all).

Many people we serve ask many questions because our menu is set up differently than most other coffee menus, which is totally understandable. We actually like getting questions about the menu because we understand we have many options and that many shops are saturated with insane flavor concoctions and that coffee tastes more like drinking liquid sugar.

The problem is that these same people are too impatient to listen for an answer, and instead become annoyed and cut us off. Like we are the ones who are wasting their time.

The worst instances of rude customers were ones that I couldn’t just stand by and smile through the disrespect.

In our downtime — if we have any — many of us are busy restocking the bar area and cleaning up after messy people. I had a customer come up to me while I organized a pile of coffee cup sleeves to stock and show me a “better way” to face the sleeves the same way. He took a few and began organizing them in the same way that I already had been shuffling them around, while he spoke slower and made me watch “his method.

Another customer got too close to my face to explain that he wanted a small coffee, not a large one, with indicating hand motions to show me what “small” meant when compared to a “large.” All I had done was ask him (politely) to repeat his order because he mumbled it the first time.

And, my favorite encounter, was with a middle-aged woman who became unnecessarily frustrated with me when I asked if she wanted her “regular, normal coffee” in a paper cup or a ceramic cup.

She actually used the “you millennials” line on me because she was overwhelmed with the menu. I explained to her that “we millennials” have nothing to do with paper versus ceramic.

It takes a lot to make me angry enough to talk back, but my patience wears down when customers come in day-after-day with an attitude and the assumption that because my coworkers and I are behind the counter taking orders, we are unintelligent and unsuccessful.

Just because I am serving coffee to you and your entitled ego does not make me less of a human being by people who think that money equals intelligence.

I am proud to be making coffee because I have more freedom to be myself and express my opinions without being forced to accept responsibility that I do not feel comfortable taking on or agree with, which is what was happening in my position as a counselor.

I like to associate most baristas — and other nontraditional positions — to the rejects of the workforce, and I mean that positively.

We are the people that decided being forced to follow a list of rules, regulations and guidelines is not the life we signed up for. I know that sometimes a traditional career is more important than pride or passion, but personally, I do not fit into that category.

Happiness is my number one priority and if that means making lattes and talking to hundreds of interesting people, then I think my decision making was pretty clear.

You never know, we baristas may even be smarter than some people may think.