"Can I help you?" she asked.
"Can-can I c-come in...Please?" he asked between breaths, but still remembering to be polite.
The woman looked behind him, expecting to find the cops or something. "Sure-" she started to say, before he bolted through the threshold and slammed the door behind him. He leaned against it, still breathing hard.
"Is everything okay?" she asked with a strange expression on her face.
"NO!" he replied, covering his face with his hands. Uncovering his face, he continued. "My fans went bezerk, they thought I was shooting here or something. Do you think I could stay here for an hour or so?" he seemed hopeful until he saw he face darken, like a cloud had passed over it.
"Oh, so you're one of those big-shot actor guys. I'd expect you to have, like an agent in a limo who would drive up in your most dire hour and send you to a day spa or something."
"Uh...well, you're right about the actor part..." he replied meekly. "I actually try to live a more normal life. You see I'm not big on being famous..." he stopped talking as he watched her expression go from annoyed, to evil.
"And you intend on living normally with obsessed teenage girls chasing after you? Sounds perfectly normal to me," she said sarcastically as she turned to leave.
"Uh, wait. Seeing as how this is a restaurant or café or whatever, do you think you could get me something? Maybe?"
She pivoted and faced him again. She glared at him waiting for his request impatiently.
"Could I have a coffee? With a sprinkle of sugar, extra crème and...and..." he couldn't seem to find the right words.
"And? I haven't got all day. I'm lucky to be working at minimum wage, and they only pay me if I actually work."
"Oh, right. Sorry. Um, do you have those mini marshmallows?"
"Marshmallows? In your coffee?" he nodded. "Alright, whatever..." she said arrogantly as she sauntered out of the room.
"Man that was close out there," he said to himself. "and in here," he added with a sigh of relief. He ran his hand through his dark, messy hair and stuck the other one in his pocket as he looked around. In the tiny back room there was a couch-well, not even that. It was a raggedy, old loveseat. There were a couple cabinets and a tiny TV perched on an old crate. The room didn't look much larger than a janitorial closet.
"Can-can I c-come in...Please?" he asked between breaths, but still remembering to be polite.
The woman looked behind him, expecting to find the cops or something. "Sure-" she started to say, before he bolted through the threshold and slammed the door behind him. He leaned against it, still breathing hard.
"Is everything okay?" she asked with a strange expression on her face.
"NO!" he replied, covering his face with his hands. Uncovering his face, he continued. "My fans went bezerk, they thought I was shooting here or something. Do you think I could stay here for an hour or so?" he seemed hopeful until he saw he face darken, like a cloud had passed over it.
"Oh, so you're one of those big-shot actor guys. I'd expect you to have, like an agent in a limo who would drive up in your most dire hour and send you to a day spa or something."
"Uh...well, you're right about the actor part..." he replied meekly. "I actually try to live a more normal life. You see I'm not big on being famous..." he stopped talking as he watched her expression go from annoyed, to evil.
"And you intend on living normally with obsessed teenage girls chasing after you? Sounds perfectly normal to me," she said sarcastically as she turned to leave.
"Uh, wait. Seeing as how this is a restaurant or café or whatever, do you think you could get me something? Maybe?"
She pivoted and faced him again. She glared at him waiting for his request impatiently.
"Could I have a coffee? With a sprinkle of sugar, extra crème and...and..." he couldn't seem to find the right words.
"And? I haven't got all day. I'm lucky to be working at minimum wage, and they only pay me if I actually work."
"Oh, right. Sorry. Um, do you have those mini marshmallows?"
"Marshmallows? In your coffee?" he nodded. "Alright, whatever..." she said arrogantly as she sauntered out of the room.
"Man that was close out there," he said to himself. "and in here," he added with a sigh of relief. He ran his hand through his dark, messy hair and stuck the other one in his pocket as he looked around. In the tiny back room there was a couch-well, not even that. It was a raggedy, old loveseat. There were a couple cabinets and a tiny TV perched on an old crate. The room didn't look much larger than a janitorial closet.