A quick peek at Callie's Character

The Monday morning shift at the coffee shop arrived too quickly. She had slept most of Sunday and felt she had no real time off, but at least she felt rested. Once again, Callie debated quitting after another twenty-five hundred dollars was deposited into her account. The morning routine repeated itself. Pantsuits arrived first, but Callie almost didn’t recognize her because she was wearing a dress. Illegal Parker walked in just as the line was at its longest. He stood at the back, impatiently making loud noises to show his displeasure. Callie deliberately slowed down, pretending to run out of supplies right before his order, claiming she needed to find another milk carton. Timid Secretary was right behind him in line, smirking at Illegal Parker’s frustration.

“If I get a ticket, it will be your fault,” Illegal Parker complained as Callie slowly frothed his milk.

“I’m not the one who parked illegally,” Callie retorted sharply.

Then she noticed a police car pulling up outside the shop. She watched as the officer circled Illegal Parker’s vehicle and began writing a ticket. Callie raised the cup to the top of the counter. Just as he reached for it, she released her hold. It appeared to be an accident, but she knew Illegal Parker didn’t have a firm grip. The cup fell, hitting the counter before spilling all over him.

“Bitch!” he yelled at her. “You fucking bitch, you’re going to pay for my dry cleaning.”

Callie glanced outside to confirm the police officer was well into issuing the ticket.

“Your car,” she said softly before Illegal Parker could continue his slurs.

“What?” he asked.

“Your car,” she repeated loud enough for everyone to hear. “You’re getting a ticket.”

“Fuck,” he yelled as he ran out of the coffee shop.

Everyone in the store paused briefly to enjoy the schadenfreude. Timid Secretary was still laughing as she accepted her order and, for the first time, left a tip. Callie noticed Older Hot Guy in line a few people back. She started to rush through the orders, trying not to delay anyone further, but everyone who had witnessed it thought her handling of Illegal Parker was well done and left extra tips.

“I know you did that on purpose,” Older Hot Guy said as he reached the counter.

“I assure you, I have no idea what you mean,” she smirked.

“I told you you’re funny, Callie,” he said, this time leaving a twenty-dollar bill in the tip jar. “For the dry-cleaning bill.” He laughed.