shadowilinise Elisa Viteri

Another day working in the thankless food industry. Another morning with not enough change on the register. Yet its not just "another" day anymore. I didnt signed up for this mess.


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#guncrime #hostagesituation #october #pumpkinspice #guns #hostage #darkcomedy #darkhumor #countdown #frappuccino #coffeeshop #coffee #retailwork #workinginthefoodindustry #customerservice #customer # #criminal #fedup #officiallydone #fml #insanity
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Timer's café

I heard a bang, follow by the smell of gunpowder and a few screams. This did not go as planned. As I lost my balance I couldn’t help but wonder…

…was there anything else I could have done?

Several hours earlier

10:34 am

I let out a big sigh as another day of serving terrible drinks to pathetic and mean people who didn’t function without his morning coffee, arrived.

“I’ll have an almond milk pumpkin spice latte, with cream and chocolate syrup, and can you hurry?” A self-entitled college girl asked me while messaging on her phone. She didn’t even look at my face.

“Sure. It will be 5,35” I gave my best fake smile.

She gave me a ten and I gave her the change. I took one of the plastic cups and wrote the order in it with a market, passing it to my co-worker, who was in charge of making the drinks.

“Give me small expresso.” The next man in line asked, his face was grouchy and of course, there was no “good morning”.

“As you wish sir, its 1,30”

“Do you have change for 50?”

I’m supposed to be used to this, but it will always baffle me. We open at 10 am, we don’t have that kind of change at this hour.

“I’m sorry sir, but we don’t.”

As expected, he didn’t like that.

“What?! Then how am I supposed to get my coffee!? I won’t leave this line until I get my coffee!”

“I’m sorry there is nothing I can do, please sir you are blocking the line.”

“No! I’m a customer! Give me my coffee!”

The crowd behind him started to get annoyed, and mumbling and nagging. A young guy, probably another student put a hand on the man’s shoulder trying to gently move him.

“Sir, please move.” What he got in response was a big push. The guy’s friends all came in group and started to scream at the annoying man while other members of the crowd tried to intervene. All this, was happening in front of me, on a Monday morning.

I just stood there, sadly, this wasn’t our first fight. I wanted to wait for it to pass, but I work here, so I kind of need to do something.

“I’m so done with this.” My co-worker said to himself in a somber voice.

“Please! Stop this!” Nobody did what I said of course.

One bang was heard, putting the entire place in pure silence.

The sound came from behind me. I slowly turn to see my co-worker holding a gun that just shot the roof.

“I’m really done with this.” His furious face took me by surprise, he was usually the silent glasses guy.

“Joseph.” I jump in place at hearing my name. “Close the doors.”

The crowd was about to enter a major panic mode, but were stopped by another gunshot.

“Nobody moves.” His voice was cold.

The gun went in my direction.

“What did I say?” he glared at me. “Close the goddamned doors.”

11:05 am

Doors were closed and barricaded, curtains were down as well. We were 26 people inside that coffee shop. The teenage school girls were all gathered together, but everyone else was on the same spot they were standing not long ago, however they were now sitting on the floor. You could hear the sobbing and scared whispers.

Tristan, my now ex co-worker and current captor, was walking and looking at everyone faces with a blank stare.

“Ok. I’m done.” He said catching everyone’s attention. “I have worked here for three years, and I know most regular’s faces by memory.” Everyone seemed confused, and I wasn’t following at all. “So I know who has been rude and who hasn’t.” I slowly understood. “Whoever has come here without saying a “good morning” or “thank you” you are off for an experience.”

The majority of the room’s eyes widened. Yes, they knew who they were.

“Hey! Small Expresso guy.” The man that he mentioned lower his head as much as he could, sweat was visibly going down his bald head. As he heard steps going towards him he grabbed his head and started to cry like a child.

“Please! I can give you money! Don’t ki…”

“Wait!!” my voice stopped him from firing that gun.

“What?!”He gave an ice cold glare, I didn’t have any plan, I just wanted him to stop. I had to think.

“You can´t kill him because…” he raised an eyebrow as I quickly made an answer. “…I will kill him.”

A collective gasp echoed through the room. He seemed confused, but he wasn’t pointing at the guy’s head anymore.

“I’m the one who has to deal with him personally every day! Yeah you make his drinks, but I’m the one who gets yelled at when I don’t have change!” the expresso guy was so pale he already looked like a corpse. “So…let me have him, ok?” I tried to smile and waited for his response. All eyes were suddenly on me.

Just keep calm.

“Fine, but only this one.” He came towards me and handed me the gun.

“I can’t take it.” I had to formulate a plan on the spot. “You use gloves but not me, I don’t want my fingerprints on anything.”

“Ah, right. Then go put some on quick.” I nodded and went back to the counter, and as passed by him, I made him trip with my shoe, he quickly regained balance, but making him fall wasn’t my plan, my plan was to make his glasses fall.

*Crack*

He froze, as he realized he stepped on his own glasses. My idea was to take the glasses, him breaking them was just a bonus.

“Oh no!” I pretended to care. He was as blind as a bat without his glasses.

After taking a deep breath he took something from his pocket, it was a grenade.

“I was leaving this for the police but…”

“No wait!” he seemed annoyed by my interruptions. “I will kill the rude people, with the gun…you can watch…and if police comes I will think of something while you escape! My dad is a judge, law can’t reach me.” That was a major lie, of course. If dad knew I did something like this he would throw me in the slammer without second though.

He crossed his arms and squinted his eyes.

“Then do it. Kill him.”

Expresso guy and I exchanged looks. I said “its fine” in mute words trying to make sure he read my lips. I went back the counter and put some gloves on, making sure Tristan looked at me, and then I took many bottles of syrup from under the counter and put them in my apron’s pocket in record time.

I gulped, and cold sweat started to slide down my face. I took the gun and position myself in such way that he could only see my profile. My right hand was in the gun and the other held the syrup. I had to give it to expresso guy, but I needed Tristan to look away at least for a second.

I looked at the crowd behind me with pleading eyes. I only need someone to cough or something.

I could hear some coughing and a small gasp from one of the school girls, who, thank God, where behind him.

“What’s going on there?!” he turned back. Perfect.

“Hold this, like this.” I made expresso guy hold the syrup with his left hand, pointing it to his head.

Meanwhile with the distraction.

“Please don’t get mad! She is asthmatic!” a friend of the coughing girl who was now using his inhaler and calming down.

“Keep her mouth shut!” he turn his attention back on me. It was all settled.

“Yeah, your days of taking expressos are over! See you in hell!” I fired, and the bottle of red syrup exploded. Expresso guy got the idea and played dead. Thank heavens it was Halloween month, we had tons of that terrible strawberry syrup for the “Vampire blood Frappuccino”

After that shot, many started to whimper and cry, but the ones around expresso man got my idea.

Tristan was going to come forward but I stopped him, again. He couldn’t come close, he would smell the oddly fruity blood.

“You keep the ones on that side under control! You never know if they might hit you in the back!” I looked at pumpkin spice latte girl. “Besides things will get messy here.”

12:45 pm

After much planning and another six strawberry death’s, the fruity smell was reeking. This wasn’t going to work again.

“Ugh those aromatizes smell terrible.” He said. “Can you you do something about them?”

“Um…” Alright, this is my chance to come up with an excuse. “Sure!” If I remembered correctly the girl who placed those aromatizers was Julia from the night shift, but there was also the terrible possibility that is was Tristan the one who placed them, if that was it then he would know they are connected under the counter. I shall be taking a leap of faith and hope for the best.

I headed towards the table closest to the boarded up window, where there was a power outlet and under which, if given the case, someone would put and aromatizer.

“Where are you going?” His voice stopped me in place, could it be that he was indeed the one who place those things?

“You told me to take care of the aromatizers…right?” The sensation of feeling the drops of sweat slide down my forehead was almost torturous.

1:00pm

“Oh…Ok then.” Thank you Julia! While pretending to look for the dreaded thing under the table and idea came to me. “Oh no! It’s broken…”

“What?” He ok the bait!

“We had those glass Glade and it seems it broke and spilled all over here.”

“What is it doing there in the first place? They are supposed to go under the counter!” I gulped. Ok Joseph, think! “A kid had an “accident” here, and the boss was not very willing to pay for a cleaning crew, so he just ordered the night shifters to clean with bleach and put Glade…Julia told me on whatsapp yesterday.” I might have said that in a particular slow way so I might have rose some suspicions.

He gave me a long look that froze my veins while showing me the grenade in his hand.

“Do something about that smell then, its making me nauseous.”

“Of course!” Quickly I went to the custodians closet and took the bleach out, however I considered that it wouldn’t be a bright idea to leave Tristan without supervision and it was then that something caught my eye.

Coffee.

The coffee bean machine to be precise.

Carefully I took the glass jar from its base and started to spill the grains all over the “deceased” making sure they fell on the fake blood, murmuring to pumpkin spice coffee girl:

“Call for help.” She nodded and carefully took out her cellphone and send a couple messages. I chose her because her body was looking backwards at Tristan. I just need to keep this charade a it longer.

“Yup, coffee is always the answer when it comes to smell, nothing can beat coffee grains.” Tristan seemed to get my point but maybe narrating my actions was overboard.

After finishing my labor I placed the jar on the counter and that’s when I made a huge mistake. I failed to consider that the cylindric form of the jar was going to roll on the counter and fall on the floor breaking into pieces, which startled the “deceased” nearby…

And Tristan happened to hear the “deceased” gasps.

He ran towards small espresso guy and kicked him causing him to scream. He crouched and dirtied his hand on the “blood”, sniffed it and recognized that fake berry aroma he hated using on those Vampire Frappuccino.

“You son of a bitch.” His anger fueled eyes glared at me for a second before walking away while talking under is breath. “You fooled me. I should have known…you are one of those guys that think he is all high and mighty.”

1:29pm

He turned around and and took out the grenade’s safety pin, throwing it in the air. I pointed the gun at him and shot, yet in my panic I slipped with the syrup which surely affected the bullets trajectory.

That was it. In a collective scream we were all going to be blown up into bits.

I heard glass breaking and fell on my back closing my eyes.

1:30pm

Huh… Nothing blew up.

I got up and saw Tristan looking at the ground stunned. The customers were also looking at the ground in trance.

On the floor were the bits of the “grenade”, pieces of grey glass that emanated the smell of executives and family dad’s usually had.

I took the mouth of the “grenade” which was made of steel and the only piece that wasnt glass.

“Ünkut – Men’s perfume”

13 Octobre 2022 13:35 1 Rapport Incorporer Suivre l’histoire
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Elisa Viteri Historias en español e ingles. Bilingual stories. I like to write stories themed around fantasy, horror, and drama with psychology involved.

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Elisa Viteri Elisa Viteri
Ünkut, was a perfume with a bottle in the shape of a grenade by the way. If anyone wonder.
October 16, 2022, 21:39
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