Kisses, Crushes, and Fro-Yo

Chapter 13 - You Are So Much More

That morning shift was one of the most hellish I've ever experienced.

For a good hour and a half, people would just not stop coming in. The line stretched on average eight people deep, and every time we served someone, another group of people would walk in the door.

Every shiny booth and every colorfully patterned table was filled. As soon as one emptied, it was filled again. It got to the point where many customers just had to leave with their fro-yo and sit on one of the benches outside, or walk a few minutes to the park a few blocks down. Some even walked in, saw the line, and just turned right back around.

Shane and I were working as fast and as efficiently as we could. He took on register since he was better with still putting on a confident face even under pressure. He would take people's orders, have them pay, and then type in the order which would make the tickets. I would then refer to the ticket, make the order as quickly as I could, and hand it to the customer. We didn't often have to use the ticket machine, but with so many different customers and with making multiple different orders all at once, I needed something to refer back to. Otherwise, the different flavors and toppings all got mixed in my head.

Deborah even had to come in from the back to help us. She assisted me in making the orders, and then was there to calm down any customers who were sick of waiting and were inclined to take it out on Shane.

We all became sweaty, exhausted, and high with adrenaline within seconds. I thought that rush would never end, but eventually, it died down. Deborah insisted on staying for the last couple of customers, but Shane and I both assured her that we would be fine to finish it off, and that she should return to her paperwork in the back. Reluctantly, she left.

It felt like years had passed when we finally came down to the very last customer in the rush. The guy was middle-aged, his face carved with wrinkles and the corners of his mouth seemed to be permanently glued downwards. He had dressed himself in a crisp grey suit, a briefcase at his side. A stereotypical cold businessman. I guess even intimidating people like him had their guilty frozen-yogurt pleasures.

"Hi, what can I get for you today?" Shane greeted with a smile.

The man didn't smile back and instead just ordered. I listened and started on the order. Banana frozen-yogurt with chocolate chips on top. While I handled that, the man paid the handful of dollars, and Shane gave him his exact change. "Your change is $1.78," Shane said as he made to hand it to him.

"Count it."

Shane paused and cocked his head. "Uhm, I'm sorry?" He said. I focused on scooping out from the banana container, pretending not to be listening.

"Did you not hear me? I said count the change. I want to make sure you're not cheating me out of my money," The man said. Jeez. Asshole.

I could see the tendons in Shane's arm pop out, and his forehead scrunched. For a second, I thought to say something to him—I wasn't sure what, but just anything to help him keep his cool, even though this guy was being completely disrespectful. The customer is always right, Deborah's voice echoed in my head. But thankfully, Shane counted it out loud for the man. The guy watched him like a hawk, as if he was expecting Shane to con him out of a nickel. Cheapskate.

Shane finished counting the money, and I topped off the fro-yo with the chocolate chips. Shane stepped aside so I could hand it to him (with a forced smile on my face, of course) and I stretched my hand out. But as he was about to grab it, I lost my footing. My sneaker slid on the tiles, and I realized that either Deborah or me (probably me) had dropped a bit of fro-yo on the ground. And stepping in melted frozen yogurt was a death sentence for someone like me, who has utterly no control of their center of gravity.