I nodded and kept moving.
“Oh please! Everyone has a sob story!”
“Sugar is right there by the napkins if you want to add some,” I told the woman when I placed the latte down.
She snatched it. “It should ALREADY be in there.”
“We keep it on the station so people can adjust it how they like, Ma’am.”
She took one sip and frowned. “Gosh! What is this? I asked for sugar.”
“I was just saying the sugar is right there on the…” I never got to finish.
The latte hit my face before I even registered the woman’s arm moving. Hot liquid ran down my cheek, soaking my collar. The café went silent. Every person became still, waiting to see what dignity would do next. The cup rolled off the counter and hit the tile.
“Gosh! What is this? I asked for sugar.”
The rude lady leaned toward me. “Drink it yourself!”
