Espresso-ing His Intentions, Part 2

(I work as a barista. I happen to be in a very bad mood. I’ve just spilled some milk on the counter when a boy walks up.)

Boy: “Here.” *hands me a cup*

Me: “Trash can’s over there, sir.”

(I point in a direction away from me and continue to wipe up my mess.)

Boy: “Aren’t you going to take my cup?”

Me: *annoyed* “No. That’s not my job. There’s a trash can over there, sir.”

Boy: “But I—”

Me: “Listen to me, I am not your maid or your butler. I made your drink, you drank it, and that’s the end of what I do for you.”

Boy: *shocked* “I actually just wanted to be cute. I’m really sorry.”

(I am silenced.)

Boy: *flustered* “But um, here’s my number. I think you’re really pretty and I promise I won’t be an a** next time.”

(After he sprinted out, I called him on my next break. We’re getting married next month.)