A Rough Start...

Some say it was the 7.52% drop in latte sales on 12th street, but we all know Greg wasn't cut out for a barista's life. He often was caught fake laughing at the coffee house humor from customers. Every "thanks a latte"he received, people could see a little part of him die. One day, he didn't even bother smiling at the "I don't give a frappe if you keep the change." That was the day Mr. Stenson, the regional manager was monitoring the store. Greg served the next customer an iced coffee drink with a raised eyebrow meant to indicate the strange logic in an iced coffee during the snowstorm that day.

"Greg, can I borrow you for a minute in the office?" Jim Stenson was a solidly built man of only five feet. Many believed the excessive weight lifting is to make up for the short jokes. The truth lies somewhere in the middle between self esteem and fighting the fast food he eats ever day in his travels to local franchises.

"You know we don't have an office here unless you mean the bathroom. Sam Matthews tried to convince Sarah it was an office and corporate fired him. I don't know you, but I'd hate to feel responsible for you getting fired." The delivery was dry and direct as most of Greg's conversations went. Most found it difficult to tell when he was serious and took everything as a joke. Even his odd comments about jamming the milk steamer into his eye until the sound of a whistle ends the monotony that is his job. They all thought the joke was that his skull wouldn't whistle if he went through with it.

"Let's take a walk into the back storage area for a minute. I just want to talk to you about your role in this organization." The elongation of the word role made it clear this would not be a good discussion, but Greg was unfazed.

"I'll go, but Janice just went into the employee bathroom back there and she's a little weird about her quiet time in there. One time, I walked back there to take a call from my mother and she blew a cloud of ground cinnamon in my eyes when she came back to the front and told me she hadn't washed her hands."

"Well, we'll just have to whisper." With a wave of his hand, Jim moved towards the back and disappeared through the door. With a wave of his hand, Greg swatted away the steam from a cup of coffee and continued to stand at the counter of the empty coffee shop waiting for customers.