“I hate this place, why do you make me come here,” I moaned.

“What’s wrong with it?” Mona said, “You work here.”

“Exactly,” I said rolling my eyes, “I try to limit my time here to the essentials, working…and that’s it.”

“Oh, come on. I like the iced tea,” Mona coaxed, sipping through her green straw. She pulled out a wedge of a brownie and held it out to me.

“Want some?” She said smiling.

“God, Mona, that’s disgusting,” I said, swatting her away. She began to eat, carelessly letting brownie crumbs fall into her cleavage. I sat back, sipping on my cappuccino. I opened the lid, the bubbles in the foam were much too large, and it seemed a little heavy.

“These retards must have slept through training. Is it that hard to steam milk?” I grumbled. I would have much rather gone down to the organic coffee trade place with the loft upstairs with the red couches and the baristas with lots of facial hair that play funny 80s cover songs. At least they know the importance of good espresso…