I held my finger on the "crush" button and stared uninterestedly at the pulverized ice and coffee that sloshed around in the blender.
"Where's that frappuccino, Andy? Old guy over there is getting impatient..." Julie muttered. While hurrying past me towards the pastry display, she furtively pointed her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of a very disgruntled looking old man.
"Sorry... These things take forever," I replied, taking off the top to get a closer look at the drink. It still wasn't blended yet. I shut the lid and pushed on the button again.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am... You said two chocolate chip cookies and a fudge brownie?" Julie shouted across the counter, trying to raise her voice above the sound of the blender.
The woman stood on her toes and raised her chin, as if that would make her voice louder. The sound was completely lost in the roar of the blender. Good thing Julie was good at reading lips.
"Oh! Two brownies and one cookie... Right, sorry," she muttered, taking them out from behind the glass case and putting them in a paper bag.
"Here you go. Thank you, have a nice day." Julie attempted to sound pleasant, but her voice came out sounding exhausted. She handed the woman the bag and closed the cash register.
Just as I began to pour the liquid into a clear cup, my phone started ringing in my pocket.
Don't remember setting that ring-tone for anyone...
"Crap," I mumbled, trying to reach for my cell phone without spilling the frappuccino on the counter.
Julie laughed and rushed over to where I was standing. "Here," she said, taking the blender cup out of my hands and continuing to pour it. "Go answer it."
"Thanks." I struggled to get my phone out of my jeans pocket. Since the person on the other line was just about to get to my voicemail recording, I didn't even bother glancing at the caller ID before I flipped it open and put it to my ear.
"Hello?" I said, wiping my hands off on my beige apron.
"Hey, stupid." Jaime's voice greeted me on the other end.
I rolled my eyes and turned my back to the waiting customers who were shooting me dirty looks. "What do you want, Jaime? I'm at work and I can't talk."
"I want my cell back. I've got phone numbers in there that I need. As in now."
"So what do you want me to do about it? It's not my fault you can't keep track of your stuff," I shot back impatiently.
"Actually, it is your fault. You took it."
"Why would I want your phone? I have mine."
"You sure about that?" Jaime sounded smug.
"Yeah," I said, thinking back to that morning. "My phone was on the counter in the kitchen. I grabbed it right before I left."
"So was mine," Jaime replied irritably.
"I'm pretty sure that—"
"Then explain to me why I just had to flip open yourcell phone and dial my number."
I curiously took the phone away from my ear and brought it in front of my face to look at it. Instead of my cute little goldfish background staring back at me, I found a picture of a basketball. Great.
