Inspired by a rude girl who cut in front of me today without apologies:
“Who’s next?”
He was about to order when she squeezed in front of him.
“Medium skim iced latté.”
Startled, his eyes wandered up the legs that had stepped on his feet. They were toned, stood in white medium leather heels with a matching, tight, knee length leather skirt that was now pressed against him.
“It’s on him.” She pointed her head in his direction a tad without looking. Then she put her weight on her foot and dug her heel into his foot. He flinched.
“He’s having a small Macchiato with 4 squirts of vanilla and 4 maple syrup. 8 total.” She smiled at the confused barista and leaned in to whisper: “Weirdo, right?”
The barista stared blanks. “Uhm …your name?” A cross-counter beam from her: “He's weirdo.”
She snatched the wallet from the newly christened man and walked into the pick up area. It had taken her less than 30 seconds to turn his life upside down and give him a new identity. He'd never felt such an adrenaline rush before.
Now the barista stared at him. His confusion had given in to a knowing smirk. “Next.”
Flustered, he lowered his head and followed the woman's scent. It described an invisible path that he had to follow. Like a puppet. He stopped a good two arm lengths from her. As he took up the courage to raise his head he could see her picking at the contents of his wallet with boredom at first. Then she pulled a picture out. It was of Sarah, in a bikini. She help it up to taunt him with a grin.
He’d printed the pic from Sarah's Facebook page. She was a coworker and they'd been on one date. No repeat. This was private. He was mortified. People started to notice the two and he was blushing as scantily-clad Sarah was waved around the crowded shop. It didn't last long.
"She would never have you. Forget it." In quick succession the woman ripped Sarah up… 2, 3, 4 times then discarded her bits. Some parts landed in the garbage bin, some fell on the floor. Her white heels stepped on them.
"Weirdo?!?" A female barista read. She was pissed. Thought she was being pranked.
The brunette pulled a tenner out of his wallet and sealed the wallet into her purse. Then she let the it sail the floor, while looking past him.
He froze. He’d never been this humiliated in his life, but he dropped to the floor and scrambled for the bill. The next "weirdo" wouldn't just turn a few heads. Everybody would be able to hear it. He stumbled to the counter.
When he saw the concoction that was his drink he swallowed dry. Half the glass was full of syrup. Ten dollars was barely just enough for the drinks. Pennies left for a tip. He squirmed. He always tipped. The female barista wasn't amused. He twitched when he realized that the woman who had taken him over had stepped behind him. She lightly pressed herself against him and whispered.
"A pitcher of water, weirdo. Or I'll tell them that you rubbed up against me."
It was true. He had felt her. Of course he had stood perfectly still as she forced her cheeks against him. He'd never touch a woman without her making the first move. She had enjoyed embarrassing him to sliding in, then swaying back and forth. If she did tell anyone, his excitement would prove her story true.
"Your change."
The girl behind the counter dropped 2 pennies into his hand. He panicked and decided to toss them in the tip jar.
"Pitcher of water." The brunette hissed loud enough while more firmly pushing her breasts into him.
"May I please have a pitcher of water?" He'd readily submitted now.
The barista fished a carafe from the sink. She was insulted by his tip on top of the name and went for a carafe that's wasn't clean. She filled it with warm water. The entire world had decided to make his life hell.
"Follow." The brunette snapped as the walked toward a table in the middle of the place. Her white leather skirt was so tight and the thought of having had the chance to touch it drove him crazy. It clearly showed in as he was struggling with the pitcher and two cups, trying to keep up.
"Sit." He slumped down wanting to disappear under the floorboards as she pointed to a chair commanding. She sat across the table. Slowly. She made a show of it. Her breasts may not have been large, but they seemed perfect to him, and her skirt made squeaky sounds as she bent her back. It was so tight. So totally unattainable.
"Now what do we do with perverts?"
Please no, he thought. She pulled her latté toward her and pointed to his cup.
"We keep them properly hydrated. Drink. Now." He downed the disgusting stuff. He was never into sweets. This made him gag. He did it quickly. Leaving some in the cup.
"All!"
She fished for something in her purse. 4 pills. She popped them and poured the content into the carafe with the warm water.
"Drink up."
She put the pill bottle on the table so he could see the label. Viagra. He'd seen the fine print in TV ads that talked about 8 hour erections and was mortified. At the same time he was so intensely turned on. He knew that she could do anything if he went there. He also knew that he never wanted anything more.
She poured the warm water into his syrup cup. He drank. She poured. There must have been 6 cups in there. He drank for what seemed like an eternity. By the end of it he was so hard that he felt dizzy. There was no way he could stand up. He couldn't hide this monstrosity. When the last cup was empty she got up. Just like she'd sat down. It was cruel to have to watch.
"Thanks for coffee, dear!" She was amused.
"I guess, now you'll have to wait a while." She slowly and purposefully walked to the counter. Stretching her body. Using her femininity to destroy him. As she exited the shop, she took the cash out of his wallet and dropped the wallet into the trash bin with Sarah's picture.
She didn't look back.
It took him a good 2 hours before his bone-hard erection subsided, but that wasn't the worst of it. He had to use the restroom so badly because of pitcher he'd been forced to drink. How many beats his heart had skipped this morning he had no idea.
He tried to make his way to the trash as innocuously as possible and bent to to fish out his wallet. For a moment he thought about trying to piece Sarah's picture back together, but he had lost all interest in her. The woman in the white skirt had unlocked something that he could never lock back in again.
