Life, Love & A Little Coffee

Chapter Twenty-Two: Dipshit Parade

Tom's comment echoed in her mind for the next day and a half. It was now Friday afternoon and the words from Wednesday were still following her around like a fly or mosquito buzzing around her ear that disappeared just as she was about to swat it, only to return moments later for further misery.

The barista in her acted more like a trainee. Her mind just wasn't in it and people were taking notice. On Wednesday, closing took Ada an hour longer than usual. Thursday she didn't need to because Crystal had sent her home.

The spaciness wasn't reserved for only work, but followed her to school. If people were still picking on her, she hadn't noticed. The bad part was that the two days she had left in testing were the two days that Tom wouldn't leave her brain long enough for her to recall anything academically.

If college was still on the menu, she would have screwed up her future.

Britt never asked about Ada's conversation with Tom, causing Ada to figure out she'd most likely been listening. Still, she expected some comment and was still waiting for that shoe to drop.

It was now early Friday evening, with a few hours yet ahead of her. It had been another rainy day, which meant a busy evening for her; not something Ada was looking forward to if her head didn't get itself in order.

There was a second person meant to work with her, someone who'd started a week before that she'd only worked with once, but an hour into the shift, the bitch still hadn't showed and the coffee shop was becoming crowded.

Ada wiped her hair damp with sweat away from her face and let out an exhausted huff.

There were only two other employees besides her and Crystal. One of them had requested the night off, the other wasn't answering her phone, and Crystal had taken Ada's mother to a gallery opening.

Britt had helped Ada on Wednesday and was now helping again. She didn't know how to work the machines, but could clean off tables and keep customers charmed and the hell away from Ada.

There was a six person line and Ada added another person by chucking their drink into the sink. She'd called the woman up to the counter three damn times to pick up her drink, but she was chattering away on the phone; in hearing distance and just not caring. If she wanted it so bad she was going to go through the process all over again.

"Excuse me," a man spoke gruffly to her as he held a cup in front of her face and began swaying it around. "I told you my name was Erik, and you wrote Larry. Is it so hard to get a name right? What is with you people messing up customers' names?"

Fucking tourists.

Ada had given up pleasantries and was about ready to snatch the bell off from above the door if it chimed one more damn time. "Are you serious?"

"If you can't handle a critique, maybe you shouldn't be in customer service." He banged the cup back on the counter. Maybe not banged, but enough where coffee splashed out of the cup.

"I can handle critiques, sir. What I can't handle is you ruining someone else's drink order that I now have to remake," she shot back. "And as a heads up, if a cup has a name on it that sounds nothing like yours, it isn't your order."

The man turned beet red and backed away from the mess he'd left on the counter.

You would think after the stupid that came out of that guy, there would be nowhere to go but up. But that night, as she worked tirelessly just to keep her head above water, it appeared as if someone had dumped off a bus load of people to celebrate her night alone with a dipshit parade.

One woman in her fifties stared at the menu and clicked her tongue for three minutes as the people piled in behind her, which would have only been a small agitation if she hadn't been on her phone during the time she waited in line. If she'd put the damn thing away, she would have figure out what she wanted before ever getting to the register.