1. You're always on your phone.
We get it: Your boutique ad agency is way behind deadline on deliverables, and your client can't sell fair-trade Bluetooth accessories to dogs without that sick deck making full use of all those slow-fade grafix skills you learned in marketing school. Please put down your phone for 10 seconds while you order, and while you're at it, stop calling PowerPoint presentations "decks."
2. You keep asking for dark roast.
Few coffee shops in Portland carry dark roast, partly because it tastes like the floor of a bowling alley, but mostly because it's hard to justify keeping a pot around when only one haggard, old construction worker will ask for it during any given afternoon. Order coffee with espresso in it if you're looking for a bolder, more-caffeinated beverage that pairs well with Pall Malls at 7 am.
3. Your drink ticket looks like a novella.
Ordering a grande half-decaf Americano with half-soy, half-breve steamed to 152 degrees, four ice cubes and 2 ounces of maple syrup is a surefire way to get your name permanently changed to "mouth-breather" among the folks behind the counter. If your barista has to throw away and rewrite your ticket in frustration at least twice before getting it right, your order is probably a nightmare. Go to Starbucks.
4. You ask for decaf after your barista starts making your drink.
Throwing away $4 drinks left and right because customers were too busy playing Candy Crush to order correctly adds up. Don't worry, if you keep it up, you'll get decaf every time whether you ask for it or not.
5. You cut the line to ask for "one thing, real quick."
If you sidestep the line and flag down the barista in hopes of getting assistance with anything more complicated than the Wi-Fi password or a to-go cup for your drink, you need to get back in line and wait like everyone else. Waiting in line is fun! That's why you moved here, right?
6. You let your kid run wild and free.
Portland is basically what happens when civilized adults turn a city into a Montessori school, but coffee shops are still places with rules and order. Hot liquid is everywhere, so be sure to keep little Sage or Aidan within arm's reach unless you want him to suffer third-degree burns when he wobbles somebody's Americano off the table onto his face.
7. You bring your fancy bike inside.
Congratulations! You and your crew of midlife-crisis, human-SUV buddies have successfully pedaled your Cannondales all the way from Hillsdale to the bohemian enclave of Portland's eastside. Now lock up the things outside like normal people.
8. You don't bus your own table.
We get it—counter service is confusing. The "no tip" button on the Square register is tiny, you have to sign with your finger, and there's no way to get a commemorative printed copy of the receipt for your $2 coffee. No only that, but the barista yells your name instead of walking 10 feet to personally hand your drink to you. As confusing as all that is, bussing your own table is easy. Just throw away the napkins you balled up and crammed in your mug, drop everything else in the tub, and pat yourself on the back for not acting like a confused European tourist.
9. You take the sugar to your table.
Speaking of Europeans, chances are your local coffee shop has only one container of sugar to be shared among everyone. It lives at the condiment station—conveniently located right next to where you pick up your drink—not your table. If the barista avoids eye contact while sullenly snatching it back from the table where you're hoarding it, it's probably because she's afraid you're going to ask her where to find "all the cute shops" in the neighborhood.
10. You bring your dog inside.
Contrary to popular belief, a very popular subset of businesses in Portland are not dog-friendly. They're loosely categorized as "food and beverage" establishments by the Multnomah County Health Department, and your coffee shop is one of them. Please leave your dog outside unless it's a service animal, or you'll be subjecting your cafe to potential fines. And if you think carrying Fido mitigates the damage he can do while inside, think again. You're putting his filth—and spewing orifices—even closer to surfaces where food and drinks go.