display tea

I'm trying to use the bathroom, here!

I worked at this one little boutique in a gentrified part of town. We have a bathroom to the back of the store. There’s a key on a large object for the customers, and a key on a large yellow foam rubber thing on a beaded chain for the employees, we keep that in the desk up front.

Anyway, with only one co-ed bathroom, I had to pee and so I got the employee key to the bathroom. I unlocked the door which automatically closes and re-locks on the knob, I hung the key on the hook on the back of the door, slid the extra lock bolt in place, and started doing my business.

A customer starts FURIOUSLY rattling the door and I replied with “Occupied!”. The customer replies with “I don’t need to use the restroom, I wanted to ask you where are the lanterns for the tea candles?”.

Are you kidding me!?

I raised my voice at this customer, telling her “I AM TRYING TO USE THE BATHROOM, HERE! There are two other people working here! Go ask someone else! What the hell is the matter with you!?”

If this lazy imbecile had bothered to ask either of my 2 coworkers, she would have found what she wanted. The store wasn’t busy at the time, and if this stupid customer had either walked up to my coworker on the floor and asked her, or better yet if she had walked up to the register to ask my other coworker, then this customer would have seen the display of tea candle lanterns RIGHT NEXT TO THE REGISTER.

I would have been happy to have told the customer where to find the tea candles, BUT NOT WHEN I AM TRYING TO GO TO THE BATHROOM, all the while the store isn’t busy and there are 2 other people that she could have asked.


But no, this spoiled lazy customer would rather bother me when she saw me go into the bathroom. She could have asked me before I went in and I still would have helped her, even if I had to hold my water. But she waited until I sat down in there to start pestering me.

The customer left in a huff, and then the next day my supervisor chewed me out for “being rude to a customer”. This horrible woman had called the store and complained, stating “That red haired woman was very hostile to me, when all I wanted was to buy a tea candle lantern!”.

I told my supervisor my side of the story, and one of my coworkers even vouched for me, telling our supervisor that this customer is rude, hardly buys anything, and always messes up sections of the store after we just finished organizing them.

The supervisor told her to “Stay out of this!”. Then she told me “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fire you!”. I told her “Because I quit, you stupid bitch!”. I threw my apron on the floor, grabbed my purse, and left.

A few days later, my supervisor called me up, all super apologetic and begging me to come back. She even offered me a raise. This isn’t the first time she has done this to her employees, she either unjustly fires them or drives them to quit, yet tries to get them to come back because other employees end up quitting on her after one employee was mistreated by her or by a customer and this supervisor, who is the store owners sister in law, and has no retail experience, let alone leadership skills.

I told her this, and I added “I wouldn’t come back for a six figure salary!” before I hung up on her.

This store had these spoiled, entitlement minded, cheapskate, pretentious, snobby customers who treated the employees here like personal servants and punching bags. Had I known this before, I never would have taken a job here. I’m not the first employee to have been hassled while in the bathroom. One of my former coworkers who had been there six months before I joined them told me that when she was closing up for the day, customers would go running up to her and demand that she reopen the store so that they could buy something. “It’ll only take a minute!” they would insist, but my [former] coworker know better than that. Our hours are posted in the store window and online. If you were that desperate to buy something from is, you should have come in during those days/hours.

A year later, the boutique closed.

Sweet talk and open hearts

Chapitre ½ : Avoidance

Summary : “Kuzuryu breathes deeply and when he speaks again, he is very calm and his face stone-like. “Sorry Komaeda, but I can’t let you walk away like that. You know too much and I don’t trust you not to be a blabbermouth”.”

In which Kuzuryu doesn’t want to admit that he is brave, and Komaeda is good at demolding chocolates but that’s pretty much it.

Pairing : Komaeda/Hinata ; Kuzuryu/Pekoyama

Words : 5,929

AN : First part of this fanfiction made for Valentine’s Day. Probably not as sweet as I thought it would be, but I love these pairings enough to respect them. It’s the first time writing KuzuPeko for me, and I’m satisfied with it for now. See you in two days for the second part !


*

“Again” Komaeda asks, more demanding than he would be the rest of the time. But Hinata and him have been on the beach for more than an hour now, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun, letting the purple and pink shadows turns to orange to yellow, and the atmosphere is so peaceful that he almost forgets who he is, what he has done, and how he is really not in position to requires anything, especially from Hinata.

Hinata is laying on the sand next to him, eyes closed, almost like he is going to fall asleep any second, but Komaeda actually enjoys being able to look at him all he wants without worrying about being weird or scaring his friend - they are friends, right ? Hinata said they were - away. This morning specifically, he has the hardest time tearing his eyes away from the little stretch of golden skin between the edge of his pants and his T-shirt. He is almost mesmerized by it, both fascinated and a little scared by the want it creates in him.

“Alright” Hinata replies, without opening his eyes. “Go on, I got one.”

Komaeda nods, even if the other can’t see it. He pretends to focus, though it has nothing to do with logic. It’s all about luck, and that’s why it’s so important. He licks his lips and says :

“Two thousand and two”

“More” Hinata doesn’t miss a beat and the answer comes right away.

Keep reading

catching bees with honey

1.

Every Tuesday morning James Potter loads the work truck from the florist shop to head over to the local farmers market. His stand usually sat snug in between a pottery stand and a tea display with a bright yellow umbrella marking his territory. 

James had been working at the flower shop for nearly two years post graduation from business school and he had grown to love working in the shop with the neat little greenhouse right out back. He had developed a routine of bringing stock and supplies to the nearby farmers market for Tuesdays and weekends along with a folding chair and a crime novel to catch sun with. 

Keep reading

i was working by myself on a very busy saturday and it was later in the day so it was still kinda steady, but i had to run around and do other stuff like restock, etc. this lady and her friend come in with their kids, get their drinks, no problem. when i go out to clean some tables, i notice they’ve taken the fucking display of wooden, HANDCRAFTED, $12 bookmarks off the shelf and put it on their table??? they weren’t even looking at them it was just sitting on the table?? immediately i just think that’s an accident waiting to happen. but i didn’t say anything and went about doing my thing. guess what? couple minutes later, the lady’s kid spills hot tea, all over the bookmarks. obviously i was upset about this, but i tried cleaning it up, but they insisted so i let them since more customers were starting to come in. i mopped the floor (we have to, we can’t just clean it with paper towels.)

i’m in the kitchen taking a sip of my drink when the lady comes up to the counter and stares at me until i come up. she immediately goes off saying “how she owns a business too and accidents happen so i shouldn’t get so upset” i said i know, it’s okay. she’s like “oh i know it’s okay i just want to make sure YOU know it’s okay.” like bitch i wouldn’t have been so upset if you hadn’t take a DISPLAY down and spilled tea all over it. it was an accident, but one that could’ve been easily avoided. god people think they’re so entitled. they’re lucky we didn’t charge them for every bookmark they spilled tea on. they never even said sorry

anonymous asked:

After one too many times of Howard trying to control his life, eighteen-year-old Tony runs away and opens a coffee shop in New York. It's hard work, but worth it for the people he gets to meet, especially that ROTC guy who's been coming in every week to flirt with him.

The thing about being a genius was that, at least in Tony’s case, it wasn’t limited to one specific thing.  Yes, he’d grown up cultivating his genius in the field of engineering and weapons design, but after ditching that gig at 18, he’d been able to transfer the genius capable of rudimentary AIs to painfully prosaic but actually much more fulfilling areas.  Like baking.  And brewing coffee.  And enough business sense to keep his cramped little shop open.

He’d thought that the best part about telling Howard exactly where to shove his fortune and the future he had planned for his son would be the freedom, and it was at first.  For the first year or so, he woke up every morning to the reminder that everything he did was his own choice.  If he wanted to take one of the industrial coffee machines to his shop out back and blow it up, he could.  If he wanted to eat leftover pasta for breakfast, he could.  If he wanted to operate on a schedule that included going to bed at 10pm and waking up at 4am, no one was going to stop him.

But after that first year, he found his opinion changing.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I'm sorry I'm back with more jason saying no to batman AU and just imagine jay who tries to get a job out of the narrows and crime alley in the morning hours and just getting a job in a tea shop or idk what they called but 1/

ALFRED BUYING HIS TEA AT THAT SHOP AND THAT’S HOW THEY MEET AND SOMETIMES THEY EVEN TALK WHEN ONE TIME HE SEES JASON READING A BOOK AND JUST ALFRED NOT KNOWING THIS IS THE BOY BRUCE HAD TALKED ABOUT AND 2/

occasionally sharing tea when there’s not a lot of ppl and just maybe jay having an id which says he’s 18 while he’s obvsly can’t be that old JAY WHO DOESN’T REALLY WANNA LIKE ALFRED BC HE’S OBVSLY OLD MONEY but,, his humor, his sarcasm and 3/

Jay can’t stop the small grin forming and Wow how long it was he’d smiled without any effort it feels like years. Im sucker for alfred and jason I can’t leave this out omg tho im like 100% after b realises what is jay doing bc he’s underage and 4/

Isn’t in school, b would visit him and ask wtf he’s thinking and jason is like “really b?? It was that or the streets with the girls and while they’re nice company i don’t think u would have preferred that” and just /5

Jay saying that he’s a working member of the society and isn’t he proud he’s doing smth with himself and just b being like!! U should be in school but they have talked about it before and it ended with jay being upset with b /6

Oh. My. WORD. I have so many feelings about this? Honestly. I died at the thought of Alfred sharing tea with Jason. LORD. This is my kind of coffee shop au, this right here. 


As Bruce sleeps off the night’s patrol, Alfred will wander cafes, used-book stores and new tea shops that pop up around Gotham. He spots this one that is offering specialty teas and can’t resist trying it out (“Though Americans still fail to fully grasp the delicate art that is preparing a good cup of brewed tea…”

He steps into the cafe in the early, mid-morning hours and it is bustling. But it is a comfortable, warm type of bustle… the type of bustle that is filled with smiling baristas calling back into the kitchen, regular customers and shared stories over cups of coffee in quaint, brightly-coloured mugs. 

Alfred meanders over to the tea-display and is mildly impressed by their selection: Lady Grey, Mandarin Puerh, Oolong, Assam, Orange Ceylon… quite impressive. He is stuck between the Elderflower Earl Grey and the Darjeeling, when a young voice speaks up from behind him. 

“Personally, I would recommend the Chilli Chai. Has a real “kick.” Good for waking you up the morning after a long night out.”

Alfred turns to regard the voice and is surprised to find a young barista, who couldn’t be older than sixteen, wiping down one of the tables behind him. Something about him seems out of place here in this cafe, everything about his posture, his features, betraying the signs of a hard life. 

“Do I appear so frail and tired, young man, that I would require a “kick” in the morning?” Alfred asks, amused though a bit disconcerted as his mind wanders to Bruce’s late-night escapades.

Jason merely shrugs but throws him a grin. 

“Call it a hunch,” he says, then disappears into the back of the kitchen, carrying a bucket full of dirty dishes. 

Alfred buys two bags of loose-leaf Chilli Chai tea, leaves the shop and thinks nothing more of it. Bruce hates the tea, though even he has to admit it has the potency of coffee and helped him to stay more alert during patrol than he had felt in a long time. Alfred, to his unending surprise, loves the tea. 

And so, he returns to the tea store. The first few times, he simply buys some more loose-leaf tea to-go, and Jason will cooly ignore him. But eventually, Alfred deigns it only courteous, as a weekly patron to the store, to stay for a pot of tea. 

As he enjoys the calm, morning buzz of the cafe, Alfred has more time to watch Jason at work, behind the counter, cleaning tables, serving customers and hurrying in and out of the kitchen. Every time Alfred goes back, Jason seems to be there. It’s as if he is a constant presence… and Alfred wonders why he is not in school. (Why he is not out on the streets.

Sometimes Jason serves him, and Alfred will entice him with light conversation, but he seems suspicious. He is courteous and pleasant enough, but there is a careful distance to his words, a detached, sarcastic quality to his responses that scream disinterest. So Alfred leaves him be. 

Then one day, Alfred visits later in the afternoon as it is drawing near to closing time. Jason is the only one in the shop. He is sitting there in the corner, reading a book that he sets down as the bell rings on the door. Alfred insists that he can return tomorrow, but Jason brushes it off and prepares his usual pot of Lady Grey with an order of loose-leaf Chilli Chai tea, throwing in a complimentary slice of cake on the side. 

And then, they talk. 

Alfred asks about the book he is reading; it is a collection of poetry, and Jason begins to talk about how poetry is like magic. It only works if your heart is in the right place for it. And sometimes you can’t even see it, or understand it; it is something you can just feel, deep within yourself, shaping and changing the way you see the world. 

And even as the words leave his mouth, Jason regrets them immediately and blushes, turning away, throwing in a sarcastic comment to cover it up. But the damage has been done, and Alfred is blown away by how deep and thoughtful and eloquent Jason’s thoughts are. 

Jason just feels like running. Because he has avoided Alfred’s friendly, casual chit-chat for so long, and he can’t understand why he is suddenly opening up so easily, so freely, to a complete stranger. 

But it’s something about Alfred. Even if he’s clearly from an upper-class, rich, old-money family (he’s British and he wears a suit and buys specialty loose-leaf tea for chrissake), it’s the twinkle in his old eyes and the feeling that there’s more to him than his appearance suggests, paired with the light sarcasm and wit that so easily mingles with Jason’s own. There is no condescension from Alfred, no sanctimonious, prying questions into his life or history; there is simply tea, banter, and literature. 

They start talking with each other weekly, both of them eagerly looking forward to their conversations because quite honestly it feels like an escape. Like one of the only times they can set aside responsibilities and pretences and the weights they both carry, and simply enjoy each other’s company. 

It takes Jason longer to open up beyond that first embarrassing spiel about poetry, and Alfred does not push him to reveal any more than what he’s comfortable with. But eventually, he does open up and is honest about his situation, that he shouldn’t be working the long hours he does, about his life in Crime Alley, his past, and how he would like nothing more than to escape it all… but he’s not leaving his kids behind, because he’s all they’ve got. He won’t abandon them like the system has. 

And Alfred covers his face with his hand as he sits there listening to him, fighting away tears, his heart dropping to his stomach because this is the very same Jason that refused to become Robin. The boy that Master Bruce has been grumbling about all these years.  

And when Bruce inevitably finds out that Alfred had been having tea with that ballsy son-of-a-gun who refused to become Robin and is damaging his future prospects by staying out in the street and working instead of going to school, he confronts Jason and tells him “you need to stop.” But of course Jason doesn’t listen to him, so he goes to Alfred and tells him “YOU need to tell him to stop, because he won’t listen to me.” 

To which Alfred responds: 

“Master Bruce, though I would like nothing more than for you to fund Jason and send him to a private school and college where he can realise his full potential as a promising academic and prolific writer… you and I both know he will never abandon his home and the children he is looking after. So until that day comes, I shall continue to talk with him about poetry, and leave generous tips at the cafe.”

And, true to his word, Alfred’s weekly conversations with Jason at the tea shop continue. Only this time with the addition of occasional rants about Batman.

10

So thewind-upbirdsings‘ friend and his girlfriend opened up a new cafe in Itaewon called Good Afternoon that is absolutely lovely and wonderful and omg. It’s a “British Tea Room” so they have real afternoon tea sets! They also serve coffees, teas, juices, ades, etc. They have an assortment of biscuits, cookies, and merengue. The decor is adorable and the place feels clean, modern, and comfortable. They make everything in the cafe. You can get some biscuits to eat with your tea/coffee or you can fill little boxes with them and take it home! 

We were really hungry for some food so we decided to just grab some drinks and come back for the tea set another day, but they have sample tea set displays on set and they look so yummy! The sets are not just sweets but actually include proper mini sandwiches~ I got a kiwi natural juice (which was amazing). thewind-upbirdsings got a cinnamon apple ade that tasted like liquid magic. & lavamos got an iced milk tea blend that came with syrup! She also said it actually tasted like real tea (unlike other places that serve milk tea). We also got their coconut merengue and it was wonderful. So sweet and fluffy and yummy. 

Not because the owners are our friends but they are super nice and kind and speak English if you need some guidance in trying their menu. Also, they let you smell the teas before you order them. I thought that was pretty cool~ If you’re looking for a cute cafe to spend the day in, go visit~ or if anyone wants to go together after pay day haha, let’s go!

9

My collection as a tried and true mountain hermit. Selection is in Chronological order: Me with the Wolftea Necklace “Silver”, Opossum display with Mouse, Lavender Tea in twig spoon, Scrub jay feather and driftwood,Driftwood and crystal necklace, Mouse skull closeup, Mouse rib cage and spine, Sleepy tea personally concocted by a friend to scare away bad bad dreams, Crystal spar among quartz crystals in salt bowl, and finally my collection of feather s and the dried flowers I received with Wolftea’s “silver” necklace.

Regardless of entering me in the contest or not,

Thank you!

A Refreshing Start (Part Three)

Description: Bucky x Reader. The reader, a trained assassin, decides that she no longer wants to be a killer and that a new start is in order.
Words: 1,140
Warnings: None
Author’s Note: A slightly shorter part here but it’s super fluffy so I’m sure that’ll make up for it - part 4 will be out Sunday!

Catch up here: Part OnePart Two

Tagging: @thinkwritexpress @winchester-with-wings @castihelloboys @starkingdom @heismyhunter @kenzie-110101 @maha-pambata-is-my-patronus @bookshido @jodyri @adriellej @mora-firestone @pickylittlebitch @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @nobodylastname @the-fastest-mutant-sith @colouredwater

It was official, being a barista was a hundred times more stressful than being an assassin. The normalcy was foreign to you and the forced cheeriness all hours of the day? That was just torture.

It had been a month now since you’d had your distinct change of career. Bucky had been right, they’d let you rent the apartment above the shop too which had been a stroke of luck. Central New York prices were extortionate, so you shared the small space with a roommate who, much to your relief, spent most of their time away on business. You hadn’t met them more than once or twice which suited you just fine.

Your colleagues could be temperamental. You tried to be polite but working as a team was not something you’d done in a long time. There were a few you got on okay with though, and at least you could pass lunch breaks chatting to them.

“Double shot latte with chocolate sprinkles,” A woman said, barely looking up from her phone. You didn’t mind though - professional small talk was the real killer in this job position.

You set to work getting her order ready, taking extra care to do an even sprinkle distribution. It wasn’t a job requirement - more of a personal challenge. Not that working with the public like this didn’t present enough of one - it certainly did that at times, often to the stage you wanted to just throw the coffee at them. But that wasn’t advised. That was the old line of work. Using a cloth to wipe up the single drop you’d spilled, you gave the lady her incredibly neatly made drink. She muttered a small thanks and that was that.

“Next!” You shouted down the line realising that no one had shuffled up. Peering over the counter and past the pop up display (new tea bags - not that anyone ordered them), you saw the hold up.

Bucky stood writing on a napkin for a boy who was looking up at him with the adoration one may normally associate with only the top celebrities. Bucky finished the signature and ruffled the kid’s already messy hair, sending him on his way back to an apologetic, thankful and yet slightly wary mother. He approached the till.

“That’s two this week, isn’t it?” You said, raising an eyebrow.

“The other one was when I didn’t have gloves on - bit of a give away,” he replied, grinning. He may not want to admit it or know how to handle it, but you could see he was happy to be recognised in a positive way.

“Still counts,” you shrugged, “Black coffee, one sugar to go?”

“Two today. I need the boost.”

You nodded, turning your back on him to ready his order. It was generally the same each day. You didn’t want to pry and ask why he needed the extra energy - it was unlikely you’d get a straight answer anyway. Chances were it was a light night with his Avenger pals - those ones who would probably lock you up if they had half the chance… best not to dwell on that, though.

“I’ll be two moments,” you said over your shoulder.

“Take your time.”

You said nothing, fingers hitting buttons like clockwork to get his drink going.

He’d come into the shop nearly every day you’d been working so far, only missing a few. You found yourself looking forward to it. The familiar face that you didn’t need to lie to was a relief. You couldn’t talk in the public place too openly, but tone of voice and facial expressions were a language of their own that both of you were well versed in. There was part of you that was convinced he only came in to make sure you weren’t skipping town but it didn’t matter. Truthfully, it was refreshing. Conversation didn’t often get past basic joking and general day to day catch up, but a couple of times now he’d stayed as you closed up (it often fell to you seeing as your commute was only a flight of stairs). Those were the times you got to talk a little more honestly. It was only ever a half hour maximum but it was a release for you. He’d listen as you spoke of anything you needed to and in turn you watched as he slowly began to trust that you weren’t actually here to kill him in his sleep.

“Here,” you said, walking back over with his drink in hand, “Enjoy.”

“Thanks,” He took it off of you with his gloved hand. You noticed he always did that - you couldn’t blame him - it could be practically molten and it wouldn’t get burned… maybe melted, but that’s different. He went to walk away but turned back to face you, an odd look on his face.

“What is it?” You spoke cautiously, wondering if you were going to have to jump into action. He stayed silent for a moment, biting his lip before speaking again.

“Would you…” He trailed off, pulling a face that wasn’t dissimilar to one you may pull when trying to work out a hard math problem. “Well, I don’t know if you have anything sorted for dinner but I wanted to go to this place I knew from way back, heard it’s still good.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly, trying to work out if he meant this as a date or just an opportunity to be away from the café. You figured it was the later and seeing as friends weren’t exactly easy to make around here you thought it sounded like a logical option. The last time you’d had a genuine friend was years ago - this would be nice.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you said, smiling widely, “I finish at 6, but I might just have a quick shower first.”

“Then maybe 7?”

“7 sounds perfect.” You nodded, tucking the corner of your cloth into your belt as you saw the next customer begin to get agitated. Bucky gave you a smile ducking his head and making his way out the shop to leave you in peace. You watched him as he went by the glass window, eyes scanning the faces of all those coming towards him. He narrowly avoided colliding with a small child and you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself a little. He glanced back at you to seen if you’d noticed and gave you a small wave before disappearing off out of sight.

“I said a one shot cappuccino, please,” A red faced businessman said crisply, snapping you out of your thoughts. He looked at you as though you were the greatest inconvenience of his day - if only he knew one shot is all it would take. You resisted the urge to raise your eyebrows, instead throwing him your most charming smile.

At least you had something to look forward to at the end of the shift now.

“One cappuccino coming right up, Sir.”

Part Four