ORANGE JUICE

THE BEV CART GIRL 2

You had decided to take a vacation around Spring Break, wanting seven days off the course to just relax and finally put some of the money you saved up to use. A couple of friends joined you, took a flight to Miami, and stayed in a nice hotel. The vibe was totally different than what you were used to from where you lived. It was fast paced but still somehow like a resort, and you made sure to eat at all the good places.

The Cuban food was amazing but then you had Haitian and then you hit up a few Southern seafood spots, realizing that you would never ever get enough of lobster tails.

It was your new addiction, especially when it was dipped in garlic sauce.

The employees at the country club couldn't seem to handle your glow and tan once you came back to work, busting into near hysterics at how beautiful you looked. The members would throw occasional microaggressions here and there, taking all of the pep out of you before you remembered that that was how you got paid.

By ignoring shit.

"Oh, my gosh! You look like a goddess, I wish I could get dark like that! I'm as pale as a chicken!"

The urge to chuck alcohol at these middle aged white women with no manners crossed your mind frequently. You just didn't understand how and why palm people could be so socially destructive. Instead of keeping their insecurities to themselves, they wrapped you in it like a suffocating snake while love bombing you with underhanded compliments. That was why it was so refreshing to see somebody like Erik on the course.

He was someone who could pick up on cues that only a person of your culture would be able to comprehend. It was also exciting to see a Black man comfortable in a usually not welcoming and exclusive environment.

You noticed that he let nothing faze him, like an unbothered king in a foreign country.

"Can I get something to drink?"

An older white woman squinted at you under the gaze of the sun. A man who seemed to be her husband stood in the far back, keeping an eye on her with his hip popped slightly and a steady hand on his golf club.

"Of course. What would you like?"

She moved in further, looking at your selection. The pearls on her neck were the color of eggshell and her cardigan was a deep sage.

"A lemonade. Two, actually. None of that spiked stuff."

You knew for certain that you didn't have that but you still wanted to look, just to put in an effort.

"Um, we don't carry lemonade. Could I interest you in something else? We have juice, like Welch's or Simply."

She drew back from your cart like you had hit her.

"Do I look like someone who drinks Welch's? You guys always have lemonade. Look in there again. I've been a member of this country club for twenty years, and never in my time of being here has there ever been no lemonade."

She could've been named Rosalind, Gertrude, or Darlene; but in that moment, all you knew her to be, was a Karen.

You were not going to look back in the compartment. It was obvious that there was no lemonade, she just wanted to bark orders at you. Having worked in retail and customer service before, you made sure to keep your calm. The one thing an angry customer wants is for you to lose your shit on them, which is why you always responded with a smile.

"Like I said, we have other options to choose from. My cart does not carry lemonade. There are at least two other girls that can help you, because as you said, this country club usually carries the drink. You can always go to them, it will be very easy to find them perusing around the course."