The cutest lass served me in a coffee shop yesterday – and I was kind enough not to get her into trouble.
I’d ordered two cappuccinos and some food, and had duly paid the bill. I took the snacks concerned – and her colleague then carefully prepared and handed me one cup of coffee.
I stood waiting. He looked as puzzled as I did. “I’d ordered two coffees,” I explained. Only, it seemed she’d only taken payment for one.
She was hugely apologetic, offering the second cup free. I insisted on paying. But at the same time, I was pondering the consequences for her had I accepted her generosity. The oh-so-severe manager checking the accounts at the end of the day against the number of cups served; finding a shortfall; demanding an explanation. Requiring her to stay behind after the other staff had left. Taking the well-worn plimsoll from the cupboard in the back office, and slippering her hard as she stretched over the arm one of the shop’s comfortable sofas.
Poor thing. Wasn’t she lucky I was so kind?