The cafe door swung open with considerable force, a vigorous tinkling heralding the entrance of a brown-haired, bespectacled man in a sweeping, comically long lab coat. He waltzed through the empty café like he had been waiting for it to open all morning. The gusto of his movements and the wide grin on his face already made Eva's head hurt. She set down the towel she had been using to wipe down the counter and stepped behind the cash register, all while wondering — Who the hell comes to a cafe at six AM sharp?
It was with an almost bated anticipation that Eva watched the lab-coated brunet approach with flouncing steps — and most certainly morbid curiosity by the time he reached her. His scrawny chest puffed, hands wheeled onto his hips, and with a cheeky grin that was almost as loud as his voice crowed — and Eva swore it was in all caps — "I AM HERE FOR MY MORNING COFFEE."
He nodded once, resolute, and Eva realized the gravity of her situation. She was handling a highly reactive specimen, and any ill-considered action could send this already deranged man straight off his precarious rocker and into the deep end.
"An americano then?" she asked laconically. A shock of blonde hair popped into the corner of Eva's eye, and she knew it was Roxanne swinging by to see what the commotion was all about. As if on cue, the brown-haired man, with a great swagger of his hips, struck a dramatic and cartoon-worthy pose.
"Your fiiiiiiinest home brew if you will— coffee fit for the sultans they were made for."
"You mean the Yemenite mystics in Ethiopia, but alright, your coffee will be over there. That'll be—"
"Wait!" The brunet's indignant exclamation halted Eva in her cashier spiel. "Aren't you going to ask for a name?"
Internally, Eva breathed an exasperated sigh. There were no other customers in the café — and there wouldn't be for another hour. There was no way whatsoever that the man's order could get mixed up. Eva could see Roxanne holding back a giggle from the employee's area, and she knew what the short-haired blonde must be thinking. And Eva hoped the reality wasn't another guy hoping to get her number. On the other hand, if she played along, she could get the obnoxious customer out of her hair as soon as possible.
Hand leaving the cash register, Eva deftly plucked a nearby cup from its stack, perching the tip of a black felt pen pointedly above the sleeve. "Alright, what would you like it under? Mr…?"
"Dr," the man corrected immediately. "Dr… how about — von Matterhorn. No-! Dr. Lorenzo von Matterhorn! The whole thing!"
The "Dr." part seemed to be the only thing he was sure of, but Eva on the other hand was certain he was doing this just to mess with her. She crossed off the surname she had already begun to write, and instead penned in the twenty-two letter alias that fit his fancy. She tried to ignore how the resultant unneatness, while not messy by any counts, did not sit well with her. Well, it wasn't like this particular cup was going to stay with her forever.
She freed herself of the accursed beverage container and directed him to wait until his coffee was done. Eva pointedly ignored him as she busied herself with the work, not particularly interested in the goofy smile he had to offer her whenever their eyes came even close to meeting. Actually, 'eyes' wasn't quite the right word here — now that Eva thought on it, she realized there were essentially mirrors attached to his wire framed glasses. She shot him a look as he began waxing something witty, and the brief glimpse of her reflection, twinned in dual lenses, only served to confirm her suspicions.
What a pain, Eva mused to herself as she topped the cap on his americano. This is precisely the kind of over-the-top personality Roxie would just love.
"Americano for Dr.—" she tried not to wince, "— Lorenzo von Matterhorn." Eva was infinitely glad for the existence of counters as she set the aforementioned beverage down, grateful she wasn't afforded the privilege of having to hand it to the man himself. He beamed at her, and Eva half-expected him to loiter and solicit after he received his order; but instead he whisked the cup away with a flourish and raised it in a mocking toast as he turned on his heel and left for the door. Eva couldn't deny the breath of relief that came as the brunet turned to leave the cafe from whence he came, turning the cup to appraise her penmanship. But of course, she was vouching for too much. There was no way he would leave quietly, and Eva bristled at the half-mumbled comment that tailed his exeunt.
"Aw, you didn't misspell it! I thought for sure you'd put a silent 'x' in there..."
Eva made an indignant noise to herself and returned to preparing for the rest of the day. Who was this guy to criticize the professionalism in a correctly-spelled name, fake or not?
She would rue the day she had to rewrite all that gibberish.
"Can you please handle the next crazy bozo that comes through the door?" Eva complained to Roxanne, who only burst out laughing in response.
.
"Hey, Eva, he's back!"
The dark-haired barista spared Roxanne a moment's quizzical look before turning back to man the quintessential station of cafe-worker-at-peak-time. "Who?"
"The mad scientist from this morning with a German-y name." Eva tried to ignore the cold vice of dread that began closing around her stomach. Instead, she summoned a friendly smile and handed an impatient customer his almond macchiato.
"I think 'Gibberish-y' name is more like it," Eva muttered in Roxanne's direction. Eva shot a furtive glance over the heads of the front-most people in queue, her actions inadvertently making her blonde co-barista giggle. Sure enough, about fourth or so in line was the same lab-coated curmudgeon Eva had the pleasure of interacting with this very morning. He seemed to catch her gaze — but then again Eva couldn't be sure thanks to those ridiculous glasses — and shot her an insufferably cocky smirk. Eva caught the tail end of it before quickly ducking out of his line of sight, feeling as though she had been caught red-handed for something. Huh, was this why someone would be inclined to get one-way mirrors for glasses?
"He sure made an impression on ya, huh Eva?" Roxie said over the hiss of milk being steamed into froth.
"I think it was a once-in-a-lifetime trauma for us all," Eva returned, tactfully sliding her a cup neatly labelled for David. "—That one's orange chai, hold the whipped cream."
"Okie dokie lokie pokie!" Roxanne saluted in response, letting the cup glide into her hands. "Hey, hasn't it only been two-ish hours?" the blonde mused aloud. "Can't believe the mad scientist's back already."
"I was hoping he wouldn't be back at all," Eva responded testily, flipping up the bill weight and handing the next customer in line her change. The lady smiled politely at Eva in turn, and Eva wondered why there weren't more mild-mannered, reasonable cafe-goers like her. Eva risked a glance up at the line, then to Eddie who minded the cash register to her right. Still a few more people in line. Eva hated to do this to the new guy, but she sincerely hoped the bespectacled guy would be funneled to Eddie.
"Hey, Eddie…" she began.
Too late. All Eva managed to catch was Eddie tilting his head questioningly before her vision was filled with a mess of brown hair.
That four-eyed son of a cabbage was leaning on the counter.
"Dude, not cool," she said to herself, taking a step back to put some much-needed space between herself and the over-exuberant man. He sure reminded Eva of someone, and for a moment she had troubled pinpointing who, before realizing he uncannily resembled every obnoxious, immature middle-schooler of the male persuasion she had ever met. Eva could practically see the same bespectacled face, only chubbier and more acne-ridden, turned her direction to better heckle her over the answer to one question or another — with gangly, grease-stained elbows all over her books, no less.
Eva repressed a shudder and came back to the present, not that it seemed any sort of improvement over her reimagined scenario. She tried to smile professionally, but she was sure it came out more a grimace.
"— and I think I could use something with a little more kick in it, you know?"
"You sure? An espresso happens to be awfully bitter, you know," Eva retorted in an almost automatic fashion.
"Oh pshh, that's nothing the great Dr. Lorenzo von Matterhorn can't handle!" the man in question declared with a self-assured grin. Light glinted harshly off his glasses from the movement, and Eva had to stop herself from wincing. What, did they double as headlights too? Relief came when the brunet shifted to place a hand on his chin. "But… there's just so little to drink in an espresso."
Eva mentally sighed, and assumed the fact that as the last person still ordering a drink, at least he and his theatrics weren't holding up the line. "Do you want an americano then?"
"Oh, perfect. Just what I need." He turned on her again and Eva suppressed a wince once again as the reflective mirrors attached to his face channeled the force of the sun into her eyes. She was starting to think he was even more annoying in the daytime than he was in the early mornings. "Just don't skimp on the caffeine."
"One americano," Eva asserted, maybe a little too eager to have the interaction over and done with. She picked up her marker.
"Dr. Lorenzo von Matterhorn," he cheerily reminded her. Eva might have rolled her eyes and told him to give it up, but quickly realized that if she was going to be seeing him often from now on, she'd rather not be privy to his actual identity. Association with this weirdo? No-go.
"There's no 'Y' in there," von Matterhorn piped cheekily. Eva paused mid-stroke, looking down at her handiwork. Her brows furrowed. Where...?
"Juuuust sayin'!" he said with a laugh, and Eva was suddenly overcome with the urge to whack him over the head with her marker. Instead, she shot him an icy look and finished her penmanship. She debated for a millisecond whether or not to add the 'Y', just to spite him, but then reminded herself she didn't need to stoop that low.
Von Matterhorn flounced away after shooting her a doofy smirk, and Eva really was rueing this day where she had to rewrite all this gibberish.
"Americano," Eva signaled to Roxanne, who dutifully received the labelled cup.
.
With a deep sigh (the weariness of which honestly made Eva feel like an old woman), Eva slid out from behind the counter with a cup of coffee in hand and settled into what she liked to think of as her retreat— a seat in a moderately secluded corner of the cafe during a time when activity was at its lowest and the atmosphere was almost serene. She wrapped her fingers around the piping hot cup and relished how the fragrant, rising steam tickled her nose and perked up her senses. Working in a cafe was rough, but it sure seemed worth it when she was afforded moments like these. Eva supposed very few people had the chance to enjoy, like she did on her breaks, a quaint cafe in the peaceful time between noon and rush hour, curled up in a comfy arm chair with a nice, hot cup of coffee in hand.
Really, Eva started to wonder if it was therapeutic; the faint hum of coffee machines in the background, the occasional tap-tap of cafe-goers' laptop keystrokes, the gentle tinkling of the door as it opened...
... something was a bit off, but it wasn't something Eva could fully put a finger on. It wasn't worth wasting her hard-earned break, however, and she decided to push it out of her mind. Unfortunately, the sense of unease persisted, and her suspicions were confirmed when her ears were greeted to the sound of something flopping heavily into the armchair across from her and the almost tangible aura of insufferably.
The world had to be just kidding her right now...
Eva briefly debated whether or not she could simply freeze her company out with the cold shoulder but quickly realized a confrontation was bound to occur no matter what. Sensing an impending headache, she began rubbing circles into her temples.
"Do I even want to ask why you're here?" Eva eventually said. "No, no, don't answer that— yes actually, I do want to know why you're here, for the third time today." She gave him a pointed look from over her coffee, willing her eyes to bore as much as possible into the man that sat opposite to her, sunken into the armchair with one ankle propped over his knee like he was going to be there all day. "What are you even doing here, at two-forty PM?"
"Procaffeinating," he said with a nonchalant shrug, before revoking all sense of nonchalance by immediately tossing Eva a grin which said he knew exactly what it was that he had done.
Suddenly, dumping her coffee over the man's head seemed like an incredibly appetizing idea.
Eva tried to hold back a groan of frustration. The result was a sort of grumbling noise that made her sound more like a child than the actual, very annoyed adult woman she was. The annoying cafe-goer cracked a grin in response, and Eva very quickly set out to shut down the possible misconceived notion of her having become more tolerant of his presence. "Look," she began. "Von Matterhorn, or whatever— I'm on my break right now, so if you want something take it up with the counter."
"Heyyyyy, what's Sumatra with you? Can't we just have a conversation?" The guy seemed to glow a few watts brighter after having delivering his pun, and Eva rolled her eyes, not even trying to disguise her exasperation. A conversation? Not if it's going to consist entirely of coffee puns, Eva thought to herself.
"You know, if annoying the living daylights outta me by any means necessary is your foolproof plan to gain my conversational approval, I think you need to go back to the drawing board."
There was silence before the brunet's grin grew impossibly wider, and it was at that moment that Eva realized she had made a grave mistake.
"Do you mean..." he began, with all the drama of a radio announcer, "... by any beans necessary, a fool-brew-f plan to gain your conversational a-brew-val?"
Eva's groan of unparalleled exasperation could've probably been heard from across the street.
.
"I swear, if that guy walks through those doors one more time," Eva exclaimed, gently headbutting the espresso machine.
"You'll give him a restraining order!" Roxanne finished with utmost enthusiasm. "C'mon, Eva. I think you're being a little too harsh on him— sure, he's kinda annoying, 'specially with those glasses of his, but you gotta admit he's pretty persistent!"
Eva let out a noise of frustration. "And that's just it, Roxie! I don't even know why he's like this! I don't even know who he is! Better yet, why he's here or what he does!" Eva could have carried on for another full minute if not for a light nudge in her ribs. She turned her head slightly in response, not really caring that her bun scrunched up as a result. Her only action then was to squint tiredly up at Roxanne, the indoor light contrasting uncomfortably with how dark it was outside. "What?" she mumbled, except her mouth didn't really want to cooperate out of exhaustion and the word came out more a garbled mess than coherent language.
Roxanne giggled. "You know, usually I'd suggest coffee and some good 'ole icecream, but I think what you really need now is some sleep." Eva peeled herself from the coffee machine with a bit of help from Roxanne, who also took the towel from her hands and stowed it on a drawer handle. Eva stretched with a small yawn, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm in an effort to stay conscious.
"Have to agree with you on that, Roxie," Eva said with a little smile. She was pretty grateful for what the icecream-loving blonde did for her. "We'll have to raid Creamistry sometime this weekend. Think we definitely deserve it after tackling the great beast that is the service sector."
Roxanne laughed a bit in response as the two slipped out of their aprons. "Eva, I've got no clue how you manage to juggle so many things at once. C'mon, the cafe is nice and all, but boy am I ready to get outta here!" Eva smiled and slipped on her jacket. What she'd give for Roxanne's energy, honestly. She doubted she ever really needed coffee— but then again, Eva supposed she might just be surviving off of sugar, anyway.
"—Oooh, Eva! The tip jar!"
Eva turned to see Roxanne hopping up and down, clearly excited by... well, something. "What's up?" Eva mustered, interested piqued despite the haze of exhaustion that hung over her brain.
Roxanne drummed her fingers excitedly on the jar. "I think it's a note!"