“I don’t like it when she comes as if she’s …”
“She feeds your lot” Ann said without looking up from the espresso station she was manning. Ann knew that the manager meant the girl who was at the store at precisely eleven in the morning, clockwork.
“Yes, she does but she’s not even …”
“Royalty? You don’t know besides have you at least calculated her daily expenses here for the past few months?”
Tika shook her head in disgust.
The habitué was obviously not just anyone.
“Why does she dress up like a boy?” she asked as if disturbed by the sight of the semi-blond breed in her Nike, and basketball shorts. “She’s really ugly and fat!” Tika added. Tika never liked ugly shoppers to visit the Starbucks store where she managed. She only liked men. Married or single, it didn’t matter. She had her own agenda. She was a single parent, and the husband always had an alibi.
Unfortunately ugly people … the ones who never seem to be stereotyped enough to fit into any of the boxes in her mind, are the ones who spend the most at her store.
“Well you should try to persuade her to go elsewhere,” Ann added, preparing a shot of a double.
“Never going to happen! She spends at least a hundred daily, and she’s not here for the WiFi!”
“Well, maybe she was sent here” Ann giggled.
“Undercover Angel? Over my dead …” she snapped shoving the routine pad at Ann who was startled.
Just then the Boys arrived.
They would be there precisely at half past eleven. Coffee break. They owned the whole building. The girl never looked up from her T42. She was busy typing away, deep in thoughts. Her orders came ten minutes later.
A plate of Caesar’s,
A double espresso,
A bottle of sparkling water,
She reached for her cigarettes, lighted one, and inhaled heavily whilst John starred at her. She didn’t return the favour. She knew the eyes were on her. It has always been since her life was restrained by her domineering father. She never did anything wrong — she was always ready to conform to some silly games, even if it meant her dreams would take the toll. A typical Asian upbringing despite having been schooled abroad.
Some other customers came in and sat outside, where the breeze flowed and more cigarettes were lighted. Mostly ladies in their discreet professional attires, one or three shoppers waiting for their chauffeurs, or cabs.
Andrea looked up, pensive to the sight of two Chinese women poking fun at her. Fat is ugly in Asia. She ignored them but their hideous giggle snapped her concentration as she stood and walked up to their table, obviously annoyed.
“What is your problem?” she snapped.
The ladies had fear in their eyes. They were afraid that she might just bash them, seeing that Andrea standing at six without heels was obviously not their size.
“No, nothing” they answered nervously.
“Imagine one day you wake up, and instead of that dwarfy frame of yours’, you have become your worst enemy! … no, don’t even imagine — at the rate you’re giggling at others’, you’ll never have this height, nor the curves!” Andrea said as she turned around and walked towards her table, cool, calm and collected.
The women never giggled again nor did they try to make eye contact.