Work Text:
Your only warning was a grumbled 'oh man' before your coworker turned to you as she shuffled away from the till.
"You're up."
It took monumental effort, but you managed not to roll your eyes. Instead, you plastered on your best service smile and stepped to the register quickly before whichever customer she was avoiding noticed.
Somehow, in the half a year you'd been working at the cafe, you'd become your coworkers' 'Karen' buffer. Maybe it was your smallish stature or, as friends had put it, your ‘sad wet dog energy’, but you had a knack for pacifying even the most hostile of customers.
Recently you'd been moved to morning shifts though, which meant a slew of different regulars. Including– oh wow, is that guy tall.
The customer Callie had abandoned you with had to bend down to get under the door frame, straightening with ease and revealing an expression that did not bode well for your near perfect situation defusing record. Still, your smile never wavered as he stepped up to the counter, looking down his, uh, nose...bone(?) at you with piercing red eyes. Or, eye lights..?
"Good morning! What can we get started for you today?"
"One medium black coffee and a large caramel macchiato, double the espresso and sweetener."
Tapping the order in, you repeated it back with friendly enthusiasm, "and is that everything?"
"Yes," he replied blandly, looking faintly annoyed.
You read off the total while he paid with a card, and Callie swooped in to snag the macchiato's tag while you stuck the other onto the correct cup. No one else had come in yet, so you didn't bother asking for a name – an unnecessary risk for little reward. Instead, you paused before moving to the brewers, looking up at the monster with unfailing positivity as you asked, "do you have a roast preference? We have all three this morning."
That earned an entirely new displeased expression, something slightly bewildered but still, somehow, disapproving. Those red eye lights flickered over you suspiciously(?), and after a beat, he finally replied.
"What are you talking about?"
It sounded like more of a chastisement than a question, but you'd already chosen your hill, so you simply kept your smile easy and answered.
"We have light roast, medium roast, and dark roast. The dark roast is this month's featured blend, I think it's called Golden Gate." The little signs were absent above the dispenser, but you hopefully weren't mixing them up.
His eyes narrowed, eye lights casting to the side for a moment before focusing back on you. "Is there a difference?"
Oh, that time it actually sounded more like a question! Maybe he just had really bad resting bitch face. And voice.
Perking up with that confidence boost, you moved closer to the stand to point to the respective machines as you explained.
"The roasts vary based on how long the coffee beans were cooked. Light roasts are typically brighter in flavor and more acidic, with slightly more caffeine, while dark roasts tend to be richer, with a slightly charred sort of taste and slightly less caffeine."
Both of you glanced as the door opened, a new customer meandering in. They didn't seem to be in a hurry, so you focused back on the customer whose coffee you were holding hostage.
"The medium roast is what we have freshly brewed most often, but if you've noticed sometimes the coffee is surprisingly different it might've been light or dark roast instead." Part of you wanted to go on about the different brews and how the beans and their locations varied, but he certainly hadn't wanted that in depth of a lesson.
His expression was still pinched, but he seemed to be contemplating more than glaring now.
"The dark roast, then," he finally offered, waving one hand dismissively.
"Can do," you replied happily as you finally turned to pour it. Callie slipped behind you to set the finished macchiato on the counter, and you stole a quick glance over your shoulder to watch him scowl at the drink as if it personally offended him.
"There you are, sir," you set the coffee down beside the other as you double checked the lid, "hope you have a wonderful day."
Again, he scanned you with that wary glower, but as he took both drinks, he gave a curt nod, which you took to mean 'thanks, you too'.
The next guest stepped up quickly with a smile and a greeting while another guest slipped in after Tall Guy left. By the time you could finally escape from the register, it was almost time for your fifteen so you didn't bother running to the back to grab your own drink.
The morning rush got its second wind and you wound up taking your break late, much to your shift manager's chagrin. You never could figure out why he cared about the precision of it so much, considering how often he pushed around his own breaks just to finish a task, but you knew better than to ask. Gale could be strict but he meant well.
Soon enough things slowed again, and the moment Callie got a minute she leaned against the bar to level a calculating look on you.
"I don't know how you do it," she obviously wanted an invitation, but when you only smiled at her, she rolled her eyes. "How do you do it?" She asked with pleading emphasis.
You breathed a laugh, wiping down the espresso machines that were already clean. "I don't know, I'm polite?"
"Polite," she mimicked, rolling her eyes, "everyone here's polite!"
"You didn't even say 'here's your drink', you just put it in front of him and left!" Laughter threatened in your voice, and you could see the way Callie's mouth turned at the corners in a repressed smile.
"Yeah because he’s always a jerk and never acknowledges anyone saying anything nice to him! He didn't even say good morning to you."
"That's a pretty high bar. Considering he didn't threaten to hop the counter or call me stupid, I think it went pretty well actually." Just the thought of someone that intimidating even pointing a finger angrily at you made a shiver run down your spine.
She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it, rolling a shoulder in a lopsided shrug. "Okay you know what, that's fair. He’s definitely not the worst. Not like Gary."
Both of you grimaced in unison, but you chuckled after while Callie just sighed.
"Most of them aren't that bad. They're usually just grumpy 'cause it's early. The closing crowd is where the real trouble starts," you surveyed the bar, checking the mocha and then deciding you could go ahead and make some more.
"So I've heard. Is that crazy guy who always brings takeout still coming in?" Callie followed you, uncaring as always about even pretending to be busy.
"How would I know?" You caught her eye with a quirked brow, collecting the supplies quickly and handing the mocha to her to carry.
"Aren't you friends with the guy who always closes?"
Before you could answer, she scoffed just as you turned to notice the customer she saw first. You couldn't help but smile in amusement, pushing back the tools for the mocha and preparing to whip up whatever drink they wanted.
Today had been going well, more so than usual. Not too busy, mostly easy customers, and huff 'n puff as she was, Callie was in a good mood, too. Maybe she'd even be open to learning the some of the ways of the 'sad wet dog' approach, so she could handle Tall Guy and the others by the time you could go back to the late shift.
In the meantime, though, you'd be grateful for the reprieve the early shift was shaping up to be.