Ella's POV:
So, there I was, throwing myself into work, letting the endless parade of customers keep my hands and brain busy. And oh, what a variety of characters walked through those doors.
There were the rude ones who acted like they owned the place because they bought a single latte. The meek ones who could barely whisper their orders without looking like we'd bite. The bratty kids running circles around tables, their parents pretending they didn't exist. And my personal favorite? The shy ones who stuttered through their order like they were confessing their darkest secrets.
Oh, and of course, my absolute least favorite: the rich, spoiled brats. The ones who strutted in like they were gracing us with their presence, demanding almond milk this and oat milk that, like we were some kind of farm-to-table café. Honestly, they knew exactly how to get under my skin.