What You Want Me To

"Order for..... Lewis?" I called out, reading the name off of the large plastic cup.

Everyone that was crowded into the small coffee shop hushed up, putting their conversations on hold for a minute. They all looked around the room, trying to spot the person who had been called up to collect their overly priced drink. It was a process that happened each and every time I called out the name that was written on the cup. Everyone would shut up, look around the room, and as soon as the person walked up and took away their drink the conversations would resume. This may have had something to do with the fact that I had a very distinctive accent, but it happened each and every day.

This time, nobody walked up.

"A venti, Pumpkin Spice latte for Lewis!" I irritably called out again, this time a little bit louder.

Finally, the "Lewis" figure decided to make an appearance and take his drink from me. He practically strutted up to the counter. He looked to be about my age, maybe a year or so older. The hair on his head was going every which direction, making it look like he had spent an hour styling his hair to pull off the "bedhead" look. Even though it was cloudy outside, and he was standing in a building, there sat sunglasses, perched on the bridge of his nose.

He cleared his throat, "Excuse me, ma'm, but my name is actually Louis. Like Lou-eh. It isn't Lewis."

"Well that's nice. Have a wonderful day, Lou-eh," I responded, over enunciating the two syllables in his name.

He shook his head, "Now that isn't a very proper response. I told you my name; it’s only courteous that you tell me yours."

I blinked a few times, agitatedly pointing to the small, clip on name tag that I had on my green apron. He leaned over the counter and squinted, trying to read my name that I had printed in my curly, cursive scrawl.

“Sedona? Your name is Sedona?” He asked. I only nodded in response, “That’s a very unique name for a very unique girl.”

“Alright, thank you Louis. But I really need you to step away from the counter so I can call out the next person’s name and they can come up and grab their drink. Thank you for choosing Starbucks and have a wonderful day,” I recited the last part like a robot, having to say it to every customer that walked away.

The Louis kid smiled brightly, “See ya ‘round, Sedona!”

On that note, he finally walked out of the building and down the street. It was costumers like him and their annoying antics and personality traits that made me want to gather everyone on the planet together and strangle the human race as a whole. It wasn’t that I was a bitter person who hated everyone; I was a bitter person who didn’t particularly enjoy people.

Because of my personality, this lead people to question why I chose a job that involved socializing with people on a day to day basis. To be honest, I never really had an answer. I dropped out of college after the first year because it didn’t fascinate me. After that, I packed up my stuff and moved across the country to London. I wasn’t entirely sure what made me chose London out of every other place in the world, but it was an impulse decision. Something made me want to leave the hell hole that was known as South Dakota so badly that I chose London.

Now I lived in an unfamiliar city, in an unfamiliar country, on an unfamiliar continent with no one to call family or friends. The only people I knew were my coworkers and the few regulars we had come in every day to get their usual drinks. Those few people I knew really didn’t count, though, because they didn’t try to get to know me. I came in and worked an eight hour shift, Monday through Friday, and collected my paycheck at the end of the week. Then I would go home to my “flat” and sit and watch TV with my pet cat. Nothing extraordinary happened in my life, and I was perfectly content with my life being that way.

Work today was just like any other day. The large lunch rush would come in to purchase their drinks and pastries, each person would tap their foot impatiently as they waited for their name to be called. I would call out their name and the awkward silence process would occur, the person would practically rip the drink from my hands and hurry out the door back to their job.

The only good thing about working in a place like Starbucks was the opportunity you got to people watch. Every type of person walked in and out through those double doors, and I often found myself making up a story for each person who entered the coffee shop. I’d take into account their facial expression, their stance, what they ordered, and how they dressed before I created a life that was most likely completely different from what actually went on in their life.

There was currently a lady sitting at a table with her laptop sitting in front of her. Each strand of her platinum blonde hair was piled into a bun that sat perfectly on the top of her head. She had on a pantsuit that looked like it should have been worn over 20 years ago, and heels that belonged on a stripper who was new to the club scene and didn’t know what she was doing. In my mind, I pictured her being a not so successful lawyer. She was trying to get her name out there and get clients, but it wasn’t working. When in reality she was probably just a business woman who had no sense in style.

I was finally allowed to go home after 8 excruciatingly long hours of serving coffee to customers. I took off the obnoxious green apron and hung it on the rack in the small employee office before clocking out. My flat was only about a mile away from the Starbucks I worked at, so walking to and from work each morning and each night never was a problem for me. This saved me gas money, so I only had to use my car on longer commutes.

Today’s weather in London was absolutely lovely. It was cloudy, but only slightly chilly, making it the perfect weather to walk around in. Walking home in the cold was something that I often dreaded, but didn’t need to worry about today.

“Woah, woah, woah there! Watch where you’re going,” I practically shrieked as someone ran into me, pushing my small frame onto the concrete.

The person gasped, “I am so sorry! I apolo- Sedona? Fancy seeing you around here!”

After I helped myself off the ground, with no help from whoever ran into me, I came face to face with Louis from this morning. He had the same pair of sunglasses on, and the cocky smile that he has plastered across his face before leaving the coffee shop this morning had found its way back onto his face.

I rolled my eyes, “What a surprise. I was 30 feet away from the place in which I work. I’m trembling in my boots from the shock of that coincidence.”

Louis laughed loudly and obnoxiously, which made me want to strangle him again, “Oh lighten up, lassy. I’m terribly sorry for running into you. I’ll take you out for dinner to make it up to you, if you’d like.”

“Nope, I’m good. I’ve got a frozen pizza and a hot cup of tea waiting for me at home and some XFactor to watch. They’re starting up Bootcamp and I wouldn’t dare miss that,” I smirked, pushing past him to continue my commute home.

“You watch the XFactor, too?” Louis shouted, turning around and catching up to me.

I deadpanned, “Doesn’t everyone else in this country watch it? You ask me that like no one else knows about the show and it’s our little secret.”

“Well, if you watched the show, you would know who I was,” He stated as if it were the most obvious thing.

I stopped walking and turned towards him, looking him up and down, “Nope. Nothing rings a bell. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really need to get home. My cat probably thinks I’ve forgotten about him.”

Whoever this Louis person thought he was could not take a hint to save his entire life. Normally, any other girl would be going absolutely crazy knowing that an attractive person of the male specimen who claimed they were famous was basically chasing her down, but not me. In my mind I had some mental pact going on in my head with myself about not ever getting involved with guys, and I was determined to live up to my own rules.

Louis sighed, “Alright then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Sedona.”