The coffee shop was crowded and noisy, the kind of noisy that made you want to rip your ears off or maybe shank the guy that was in line in front of you jamming out to something on his ipod. It sounded peppy and annoying. If Matthew listened closer he could probably make out some of the lyrics, but at the same time, why would he want to do that? So, he settled for glaring machetes into the guys back until the guy got his coffee with a douchey sounding name and jogged out of the building into the downpour outside.
Finally, Matt thought to himself as he stepped up to the counter and then blinked when he got an eye full of the barista. "Are you actually an albino?" He asked without thinking.
The guy raised pale brow, so blonde you could barely see it again his pale skin, and said, "Bitch, I might be."
Matthew scowled at the retort and glared over his shoulder at the girls giggling behind him. They stopped immediately, much to his pleasure, and he looked forward again. He pushed his glasses up his nose, fruitlessly as they slid back down again, and leaned forward to read to read his name tag.
"Alright, Gilbert, sorry for that. May I have a maple frap?" Matt asked, rifling around in his bag, hoping he could find his wallet without having to look. "With extra maple, please."
Gilbert sat back on his heels, cocked his hips and looked thoughtful before shaking his head. "Nope, next." He said, waving at Matt with a grin.
The girls giggled again and Matthew swore that they were going to feel his wrath, after this guy, of course. Resting his hands on his hips, not like a girl at all, thank you, he pursed his lips tightly and glared directly into Mr. Albino-man-Gilbert's eyes and said, "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right. I could have sworn you just said no."
Gilbert pursed his lips before grinning maniacally, "So what if I did? What're you gonna do about it, Mapleboy?" He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the counter, wiggling his bottom a little.
Matthew scowled at him, contemplating the many answers he could possibly give this asshat-y barista. " I'll punch you in the throat and then vandalise your vehicle when I leave. Give me my coffee." He ordered, leaning closer to press his hands in front of Gilbert's elbows. Gilbert mirrored his movements, getting in Matthew's face a bit before grinning deviously and leaning in, pressing their lips together with a wet smack.
Matthew reeled back with surprise, his face flushing red as his hand slapped over his mouth, "What do you think you're doing?!" He glared and scrubbed at his mouth futilely with his hoodie sleeve.
Gilbert laughed obnoxiously before sauntering away to make Matthew's order. " Collecting a tip, that'll be $3.50."
As Matthew left that coffee shop that day, he vowed to never go back again. Unbeknownst to him, that shop would become the most important place in his young, impressionable life.