Tommyinnit clinic for supervillains

Chapter 3: a basted named Wilbur

While it wasn't uncommon for customers at work to annoy Tommy, this new customer was somehow both ridiculously frustrating to deal with, while somehow also being the customer he's had the most fun talking to in his entire time working at Puffy's.

His shift at the cafe that day was the same as it always was: boring and tiring. Tommy's left hand was bright red from where he'd burnt himself while trying to pour some coffee earlier, and while he'd been able to heal the burn easily enough, the regrown skin was still a bit raw to the touch. His eyes were heavy as he went through the motions of making a flat white, as he had been forced to take the midday shift instead of his usual closing shift when Foolish had begged him to switch shifts. Apparently he was meeting up with an old friend that day for lunch, and since Foolish was Puffy's son, if he wanted a shift switch then he got it.

So here Tommy was, stuck on the midday shift when he usually spent this time lounging in his bed or vegging out on the couch with his roommates. He poured the milk over the coffee in his hand, sprinkling a dash of cinnamon on top before slamming a lid on top. He pushed the drink out on the counter calling out the name, and quickly turned back behind the counter to wipe down some milk he had spilled.

The door chimed as another customer came in. Thankfully the lunch rush had ended so there wasn't a line, but Tommy still internally groaned as he forced himself to turn to the register and put on his Customer Service Smile.

"Welcome to The Cloudy Cafe, what can I get you?" He recited from memory, knowing he would've gotten chastised for sounding so dead inside if Puffy was here right now.

The customer in front of him was silent for a beat, and Tommy glanced up from the register to actually look at who was standing in front of him. The guy looked to be the epitome of a hipster in their early 20s—he had those wire-rimmed glasses you saw all over Pinterest boards, a mess of curly brown hair that reminded Tommy a bit of his own, and was wearing an obnoxiously yellow sweater.

And he was gaping at Tommy. Just, like, outright staring at him with his mouth slightly open.

"The fuck you looking at?" Tommy asked, frowning at the customer.

The guy blinked, as if having been zoned out, and quickly straightened up. "Oh shit, sorry about that. I thought, uh, you looked like someone I met," the guy explained, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Sounds like a very great and handsome guy. Anyway, are you gonna order, or are you just gonna gape like a fish some more?" Tommy pushed, not having the patience to listen to a customer's weird story right now.

The customer raised his eyebrows in surprise, and Tommy braced himself for the dreaded can I speak to your manager? It wouldn't have been the first time he'd had to call Puffy because a customer wanted to complain about his 'quality of service.' But instead, after a beat of silence, the guy started to laugh.

"Do you always speak to customers that way?" The guy asked, grinning at him.

"When they're being fucking annoying I do," Tommy shot back, secretly relieved that the guy didn't seem to be pissed.

"What counts as annoying?" The customer then questioned, smirking at Tommy.

"Trying to make stupid chit chat when I'm trying to do my job," Tommy shot back with a flat stare. "Also gaping at me like I got something weird on my face instead of just saying your order."

"Well, you have a little bit of lettuce in your teeth so you kind of do have something on your face," the guy pointed out.

"Wait, shit, really?!" Tommy dug into his pocket under his apron to pull out his phone, trying to use the front camera as a mirror. The customer's shit-eating grin never left his face as Tommy searched for the piece of lettuce, only remembering a moment too late that he'd had soup for his lunch break.