“It can still be painful.” I let go of him and jab a finger into his sternum hard enough to send him stumbling back, his eyes widening with pain. Given his skinny arms and legs, the boy has very little physical strength. Just a loud mouth and a propensity toward aggression against women, who are bound to be smaller and weaker than he is. I doubt he’s ever picked a fight with a worthy opponent.
“What the hell, man? I didn’t do it that hard,” he says, rubbing his chest and wincing.
I smile at him. “Neither did I.”
He glares at me, but the fear is there, flickering in his gaze. He might be a moron, but his survival instincts are intact. It’s just pride that’s preventing him from backing down.
“You!” He points at Angelika, since she’s the most obvious target for his ire. Maybe he doesn’t understand taking it out on a weaker person just makes him look pathetic. “You’re fired!”
“You can’t fire me. You’re not the manager!” she shoots back.
I’m content to watch so long as Eric’s not resorting to physical violence. The little fawn can handle this loser.
“I’m like an assistant manager here, and I say you’re fired!” He slashes the air with his hand. “Don’t come back here again!”
Her eyes narrow. “Are you firing me because I got the internship you wanted?”
“No! It’s because y
our attitude is shit and you aren’t committed to this job!”
My patience starts to fray. “We can leave anytime you like, Angelika.”
“Stay out of this, asshole!” Eric screams, shifting away slightly.
“Don’t talk to him like that,” she says before I can respond. “He’s not the asshole here, you are!”
Did she just defend me? I watch in amusement. Nobody has ever done that before. I’m the defender, not the other way around.
She starts marching to the back.
“Where are you going?” he demands.
“To grab my things and clock out!” she shouts back. “I’m leaving.”
“Great! Go. Don’t come back!” Then he turns to me. “And you aren’t welcome here either! Ever! Get your coffee elsewhere!”
Does he think I came by here a few times for their lousy coffee?
“I don’t think he comes here for the coffee,” the other barista says, still holding his phone out. I look away from him.
“He bought it twice,” Eric says.
“He’s right. I was never here for the coffee. Your coffee is mediocre,” I say.
“What? How dare you!” Eric says. “You wouldn’t know good coffee if it slapped you in the face!”
“Would you care to test that?” I gaze at him. He does his best to stare me down, but fails. He swallows and averts his eyes.
What he needs is a fairytale ending. Not a pretty Disney version, but the true Grimm version. The Three Little Men in the Wood would be a great one. It’s an obscure tale, but it ends with the villains stuffed into a barrel that’s had long nails hammered into it iron-maiden style. Then they are rolled down a hill and into a river.
Body disposal would be tricky in that scenario, but it’s a fairytale. Bodies were taken care of, happily ever after.
Eric’s Adam’s apple bobs. He won’t meet my eyes, although his hands are clenched into fists.
The absolute worst kind of trash. The second I turned my back, he would attack if he thought he could take me out. But he knows he can’t, so he’s just going to stand there shaking, then vent his ire on some innocent bystander.
Angelika comes out, holding her purse. She stops next to me, then turns to Eric. “You know what? I guess I’ll quit immediately and not come back like you said. So, Mr. Almost Like an Assistant Manager, please tell the real manager what happened today.”