Frappuccino families. They have existed since the beginning of time, much longer than my short twenty something years spent on this earth.
They skulk through the door, their mad eyes searching the room before resting on me, I sigh. Once they have your scent, that’s it. You’re fucked.
In an instant, they’re standing in front of me, their litter of younglings fixated on my every movement. I try not to make eye contact.
The adults make noises in my general direction, a series of whimpers and grunts as they point bony fingers towards the brightly coloured boards. It takes me a while to realise they are trying to communicate. I feverishly type their demands into the ancient computer in front of me, a computer that holds the last living remains of a long forgotten era. Windows XP.
If I get it wrong, there will be hell to pay.
After a while, they seem to lose interest, their eyes drawn across the bar towards my comrade. I shiver slightly as they slowly skulk towards them. I can’t help but think ‘better them than me.’
I survive another day.