Nutters
The sound of heavy rain rather than the usual ringing of a bell announced the arrival of a customer in the small coffee shop.The two people sitting on tall stools behind the counter looked up to see who it was, stopping what they were doing. The woman smiled at the steam coming off the recently arrived man's hair and coat and greeted him cheerfully
"An unfamiliar face! There's a bucket over-" She tried to make a gesture, but realised her hands were still tangled up in a loop of string that was in the middle of 'cat's cradle'. She turned to the guy sitting next to her and muttered something. He dutifully pointed over at the container next to the door. "Over there for your umbrella, and a hook on the wall," the guy pointed at two coats hanging near the bucket, "for your coat if you want to dry off a bit." The stranger nodded in thanks, and the other two went back to their game, stopping again as he came up to the counter. This time the string was wound around the guy's hands. The woman slid off her stool and grinned broadly, took the order for the man's flat white then looked over at the other side of the room.
"Oi Bridget!" She called out. "Oi!" The customer looked around, confused. The girl, annoyed at getting no reaction, produced some squash balls and threw them across the shop. The man then realised that what he thought was a pile of blankets was actually a person, which sat up groggily after being hit by the balls several times. "You're up, Bridge!" The woman called, pointing at the shiny machine on the counter next to her. Bridget groaned and scratched her head, frowning.
"why do I have to do it?" She asked grumpily. "You're standing right there within arm's reach." The woman put on an innocent look widening her eyes and tilting her head to one side.
"But I'm busy." She replied, pointing to her workmate who held up his hands to show the string. "Besides, we've made drinks, it's your turn." Bridget groaned again, shuffled over to the machine and stared at it for a few seconds before turning to the woman and asking for help. The other girl sighed slightly and went over to her, leaving the other guy sitting, still holding the string. The customer looked at the name on the guy's shirt and frowned.
"Is your name really Amy?" He asked sceptically. The man looked up at him and with as much dignity one can have while having one's hands full of string, nodded.
"That's what it says on the nametag, no?" he asked in reply, the man nodding slowly. "Well the nametags have no reason to lie. Isn't that right Dom?" He asked the woman helping out Bridget, who looked over and nodded sagely.
"Amy's an odd name for a guy..." The customer replied. Amy sighed and nodded, having to bring both hands close to his face so he could wipe away an invisible tear.
"I know. My parents had a sick sense of humour." He looked up with a pathetic expression on his face. "They named my sister Darryl. How to you think she feels?" The customer was about to reply when Dom stepped over with a large mug of coffee.
"Here you go, sir! I didn't put it in a paper cup as it wouldn't last too long outside." The man thanked her and cradled the hot beverage carefully as he gathered his possession up, a confused look still on his face. as soon as he was out the door, Dam turned to Amy. "Darryl? Where did that come from?"
"An unfamiliar face! There's a bucket over-" She tried to make a gesture, but realised her hands were still tangled up in a loop of string that was in the middle of 'cat's cradle'. She turned to the guy sitting next to her and muttered something. He dutifully pointed over at the container next to the door. "Over there for your umbrella, and a hook on the wall," the guy pointed at two coats hanging near the bucket, "for your coat if you want to dry off a bit." The stranger nodded in thanks, and the other two went back to their game, stopping again as he came up to the counter. This time the string was wound around the guy's hands. The woman slid off her stool and grinned broadly, took the order for the man's flat white then looked over at the other side of the room.
"Oi Bridget!" She called out. "Oi!" The customer looked around, confused. The girl, annoyed at getting no reaction, produced some squash balls and threw them across the shop. The man then realised that what he thought was a pile of blankets was actually a person, which sat up groggily after being hit by the balls several times. "You're up, Bridge!" The woman called, pointing at the shiny machine on the counter next to her. Bridget groaned and scratched her head, frowning.
"why do I have to do it?" She asked grumpily. "You're standing right there within arm's reach." The woman put on an innocent look widening her eyes and tilting her head to one side.
"But I'm busy." She replied, pointing to her workmate who held up his hands to show the string. "Besides, we've made drinks, it's your turn." Bridget groaned again, shuffled over to the machine and stared at it for a few seconds before turning to the woman and asking for help. The other girl sighed slightly and went over to her, leaving the other guy sitting, still holding the string. The customer looked at the name on the guy's shirt and frowned.
"Is your name really Amy?" He asked sceptically. The man looked up at him and with as much dignity one can have while having one's hands full of string, nodded.
"That's what it says on the nametag, no?" he asked in reply, the man nodding slowly. "Well the nametags have no reason to lie. Isn't that right Dom?" He asked the woman helping out Bridget, who looked over and nodded sagely.
"Amy's an odd name for a guy..." The customer replied. Amy sighed and nodded, having to bring both hands close to his face so he could wipe away an invisible tear.
"I know. My parents had a sick sense of humour." He looked up with a pathetic expression on his face. "They named my sister Darryl. How to you think she feels?" The customer was about to reply when Dom stepped over with a large mug of coffee.
"Here you go, sir! I didn't put it in a paper cup as it wouldn't last too long outside." The man thanked her and cradled the hot beverage carefully as he gathered his possession up, a confused look still on his face. as soon as he was out the door, Dam turned to Amy. "Darryl? Where did that come from?"