Mr. Complaint wants to take another cup of coffee. Sarah, he will be your client today. Let's see what you can make for him, - Bill smirked and went straight to the kitchen leaving Sarah alone with her absolute bewilderment. Shiny windows, crispy wind sliding through the door crack - the cafe was ready to welcome the visitors. It was the beginning of March: people weren't sitting on the terraces yet but started to show up on the streets. Some desperate loners were willing to taste the morning frost and some coffee. Waiters called them "special guests". The staff will work starting from 8 am even if one guest has come. "Mimosa" has opened.
Parker (the cook), Bill (the waiter), and Jesse (the cleaning lady) were working here for a few years on the morning shift. It was Sarah's third day in "Mimosa", so all sophisticated tasks from Bill lied on her shoulders. She was 22 and needed some money for studying, therefore, she came as a trainee. Bill promised some good tips here and Sarah wanted to try.
Hello, what would you like to order? - Sarah tentatively asked an old lean man who entered the cafe.
Well, anyway you will never make it good. I want just coffee. Plain coffee with cinnamon on top. The same coffee as you've made here 30 years ago.
We don't serve it, sir. We have only classic receipts, maybe you want espresso or flat white?
Bring just whatever. I want to sit here, that's my place. I don't need your assistance, you may go.
The man was sitting in the empty cafe looking at the faded black-and-white photo. Sarah noticed two students on the photo: the guy was definitely this man many years ago. He hasn't changed significantly; a few wrinkles on his face and general tormented look betrayed him. The girl was a beautiful blonde with pearl-white teeth; they were holding hands near the public fountain. "Clair, there is nothing stable these days. They can't make a simple coffee. The things you liked don't exist anymore", - the man was whispering and focusing on the small piece of paper in his hands.
Sarah didn't like to peek. She quietly put the cup with espresso on the table and left the man alone. He left very soon after that, the cup was untouched.
You did great, Sarah. We don't dance to the tune of fussy clients.
He's not like that.
***
He came in a week in the handmade scarf and asked for a coffee with a feverish voice.
Oh, that's my guest, - Sarah smiled graciously and turned on the table with condiments.
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