Taylor

Chapter 3 | Miss Ma'am

"Good morning, miss. Welcome to Brenda's Warm Buns Café. Here is our menu." I offered a warm smile with the rehearsed greeting.

"Thank you," came a mumbled response.

"Would you like something to drink while you look it over? Or would you like to order right away?" I asked as I noted the irritation on her pale, slender face. For some reason, she reminded me of Yzma from the Emperor's New Groove.

"I'll have a nonfat iced caramel macchiato. Emphasis on nonfat because you people have no regard for calories here. Two words, weight watchers. Try it." She whispered that last part to herself but I still heard it.

For her sake, I pretended that I didn't. "Is it your first time in Guyana?" I asked out of curiosity after jotting down her drink order.

"Yes, and it will definitely be my last." She picked the menu up and scanned its contents.

"Oh no, please don't do us any favours," I mumbled under my breath while internally rolling my eyes. "Okay, ma'am. I'll be right back with your order," I told her with a strained smile.

She scoffed distastefully. "How did I go from 'miss' to 'ma'am'? I hope the food here is not as piss poor as the service," she commented dismissively.

Whoever hurt that woman needs to apologize ASAP, I thought as I rushed over to the register to put in her order. "And here I was thinking that I was having a bad day."

Eric, who was working at the register, took one look at me and burst out laughing. "What's wrong, Hive?"

"Cruella at table seven needs a 'nonfat' iced caramel macchiato and a freaking chill pill, STAT!" I told him before going to check on the other tables in my section.

When I came back to the register, he had table seven's drink ready. So, I gave him the other orders then picked it up and went back to that dreadful woman.

"Here's your drink," I said as I placed it down in front of her. "Would you like to order now?"

"Salara? What the hell is a salara?" she blurted out.

"It's a local pastry. Is that what you want to order?" I asked monotonously.

"Oh God, no. What's a cheese pie? That sounds gross."

Oh father, help me! "It's a local pastry. Is that what you want to order?" I repeated impatiently.

"Cheese straw? Cheese roll? Why does everything on this menu have cheese?" she asked, seemingly offended.

"If you're not ready to order I'll just come back." I turned away and attempted to leave.

"Oh, no. I'm ready to order," she said promptly stopping me in my tracks. "I'll have two donuts and a pine tart." She flung the menu across the table towards me.

I picked it up quietly and went back to the register. If there's an award for keeping one's composure in trying times, I'd definitely win it.

"Okay. Now I know I didn't just see what I just saw," Eric exclaimed. "Did she actually fling that menu at you?"

I sighed heavily then shrugged. "Whatever." At this point, I was too mentally exhausted to care.

When I first started helping out at the café, Sash did tell me to be wary of "difficult customers". But difficult doesn't even begin to describe this woman.

"Do you want me to go over there?" Eric eagerly volunteered.

I scoffed. "And lose your job over me? No, thanks. Besides, this is nothing compared to what I've been through the past months."