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The bell over the cafe door chimed brightly as a smartly dressed businessman strode in, polished shoes clicking sharply on the tile. Arthur looked up from the gleaming machine he was meticulously cleaning and quailed inwardly. This fellow looked like a no-nonsense sort in a hurry.
“W-welcome to Jumpin’ B-Beans sir! Can I b-brew you up s-something warm this m-morning?” The Irish lilt in Arthur’s voice became more pronounced in his unease, as did the betraying stammer he loathed so deeply. The customer raised one haughty eyebrow, looking down over his spectacles in annoyance.
“An espresso if you please. Quickly now, I’ve a train to catch shortly.” The brusque tone increased Arthur’s nerves tenfold. He turned to grab a polished handle cup that promptly slipped through his trembling fingers to clatter loudly in the sink.
“S-s-so sorry sir! R-right away!” Heart now racing, Arthur fumbled the portafilter into place, hand shaking so badly the clicks failed twice before it set properly. The hissing steam seemed unnaturally deafening as he desperately tried focusing through mounting panic. Don’t mess this up...everyone’s watching you fail again...
But as he went to lock the portafilter in, a particularly violent tremor jostled the whole assembly. Scalding coffee splattered over the chrome machine and Arthur yelped at the burn on his fingers, tears instantly misting his eyes. Humiliation flooded through every fiber of his being.
“Confound it man, do get a grip on yourself!” the businessman growled irritably. “At this bumbling rate my drink won’t be ready ‘til Christmas! I’ve half a mind to take my business across the street where the help can actually perform their duty without these hysterics.”
Each word pierced Arthur’s crumbling composure like daggers, flushing his skin in mortified splotches. He kept his head bowed submissively, eyes squeezed shut against the stabbing criticism as he whispered hoarsely.
“P-p-lease sir....I’m t-trying my b-best...j-just another m-moment...” He could feel tears burning for release but he dared not surrender to them here. Not with this viper watching his every failure.
The tongue lashing continued relentlessly, disparaging his intelligence, competence, manhood and breeding in increasingly biting tones. But some primal instinct forced Arthur’s leaden feet to remain rooted under the verbal blows, hands clenching and unclenching spasmodically at his sides.
Just hold out....just endure this trial...the others are watching too... ... A single tear traced down one mottled cheek despite Arthur’s desperate blinking. Then another followed. His breath rasped louder in his ears, keeping cadence with his hammering heart. Still he did not flee. Trembling, Arthur fumbled for a clean mug with sweaty hands. But his sleeve caught the precariously stacked porcelain, sending it crashing to the floor in a cacophony of shattering pottery.
The customer's glare whipped towards him. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, are you daft boy?!" Arthur recoiled as if struck, face flooding crimson. "I-I'm so s-sorry sir, let me j-just—"
"Stop that damned babbling and pour my coffee!" the man bellowed, pounding his fist on the counter. "A simple order and you bungle it all to hell!" Arthur couldn't get his lungs to fully inflate, sparking tingles of lightheadedness. He wheezed half-formed apologies, bending to gather jagged shards with quavering hands.
The infuriated patron carried on berating him within an inch of his face as the cafe fell silent. "I've met parrots more articulate than you! Was I not speaking English or are you just touched in the head?"
Arthur's throat constricted so tight no words emerged at all. Still he forced his leaden feet to carry his battered dignity through the motions of pouring bitter liquid with a broken whisper. "P-p-please sir….I meant no offense…"
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