“I would’ve loved it if you have given me tea,” the gentleman occupying the seat voiced out. I replied with a scrunched forehead as frustrations started to seep under my skin. I’ve been asking him for his order but he kept silent. Now that I have served him water- just for starters, he grunted out a rude reply.
“Pardon mister, but I’ve been repeating my words for million times now. I asked you what shall I serve and you are just staring out blankly. You see, customers do not frequent this shop so I decided to hand you water in case you are thirsty.”
“So, are you serving me out of passion or nothing but a mere obligation?” he inquired mockingly.
“I’m afraid to say that it is matters of both. Being a waitress may be a lowly job for you but meanings are relative to people. This is my dream, gracing through the aisles of a coffee shop; smiling and dancing through customers. Filling up their stomachs with pastries and beverages. Seeing their smiles reveal the best of their features. Etching onto the back of my mind how their eyes lit up once they sip through the calmness our place provide.”
“What a silly dream. Something anyone can achieve.”
“Maybe it is but one thing I am is for sure. No one is as brave as people who dare their dreams. In our world where money equates to living, it is rather heroic to do the things you like and not the things that will you think you like as a reward for punishing yourself.”
“Then maybe you deserve this place.”
My eyes squint in curiosity. My mind is puzzled and dazed. He handed out a stash of bills and out of shock, my mind began to turn into a blur. It is my first time to have this much money.
“The owner will come minutes later. He will tell you that the place needs to be closed for as you said it, customers do not frequent this shop. He’ll give you your last dime for the month and your heart will be broken. Not for your known hunger but because your sanctuary is to be destroyed. So accept this money and change your future. Make me proud.”
The man turned around, leaving me with bucks that felt especially heavy on my hands.
“Who are you?” I whispered.
He fixed his hat in return and disappeared. Mr. Sanchez-the owner barged in.
“Leila, we need to talk.”
I smiled and readied myself. Thank you mister. Let us change the future.
Sundy Says 