Sometimes I’m serving and I just think…I shouldn’t be hearing this. I mean that people come in here and talk about sensitive stuff at the top of their lungs, and I never know what to do. Ask them to stop? Walk around with a suspiciously-blank look on my face to make it seem as if I don’t care? Johnny would know what to do, but…well, he’s busy now. I hope he’s back soon though, because it turns out this cafe is a magnet for weird, and I can only take so much.
Doesn’t help that I have the memory of an elephant. A couple of people had clearly come from court, or somewhere similar. Talking about how they were going to have to hire business lawyers from Melbourne since the case was getting out of hand, and I’m trying to put down the vanilla slices and cover my ears at the same time. Actually impossible, you know. So they’re talking about property law, and land acts, the meetings they’re going to have with the property lawyers, what their plan is moving forward with the firm…
Maybe they don’t care. Maybe it’s fine, and I’m just overreacting, but if you heard them talk, you’d think it sounded very secretive. And maybe it’s not. But maybe it IS. It SOUNDS very secretive. And if I’m hearing secrets that I’m not supposed to, perhaps people will come knocking on my door to try to find out what I know. Terrible people.
Maybe I should find an actual property lawyer who practices in Melbourne. I have this friend who does civil law, and she said that confidentiality in civil cases it totally different from criminal law, here everything has to be hushed up and people have to paint pictures inside the courtroom.
In the meantime, I’m just denying everything. I just serve coffee and vanilla slices, your honour. I don’t listen to private conversations like a *nosey* person.
I don’t really like kids, or children, or babies. So yeah, I can really understand the struggle of having a baby dumped on your doorstep and then feeling like you have to take care of it. I mean, not the second part. If someone dumped a baby on my doorstep I’d take it to the police, answer whatever questions they had and then I’d be off into the night. I have…absolutely no time for any of that nonsense. I still avoid tables with a crying baby while I’m working here, and there’s Johnny feeling like he has to take care of a random child.
Uh, no thanks. We deal with enough noise here, thanks. No, random salesperson who refuses to say what company they are part of…we do not need any windows. Our decorative window glass is already done, see? Johnny got some people in to give us this swirling pattern with coffee beans…heard to describe. There are pictures on the website. But for real, since decorative windows became big, the phoney companies have grown to the point where they don’t even care if you’ve already got it. Not that it’s a ‘company’…companies have websites. This is just people jumping on the bandwagon to make a quick buck.
Johnny is good at dealing with these people. Like, he just has a way of getting rid of them in a way that doesn’t give them what they want, but also makes them leave, pronto, while keeping them in good spirits. People skills: that’s what it’s all about. You’d think it would be coffee making, but you’d be wrong. Anyway, I wish I had that level of people skills, but instead, I just have to blank the guy until he gets the idea that he’s not getting anything from me. Him, and the guy who tried to get us to swap our coffee beans, and the lady who basically tried to join us into a cafe pyramid scheme. I’m learning. But, like…just look. We already have commercial decorative window glass, from a real company. Why are you still trying to sell it to us!