The line finally inched forward, and I let out a long sigh of relief—one step closer to the caffeine that might actually save my day. But, of course, my brain had to remind me of her. The blonde-haired Karen who stormed out of the café earlier, looking like she had just been personally victimized by my very existence. Her designer bag swung so aggressively I half-expected it to knock over a display or clip someone in the shin. Honestly, the dramatics were something else. I rolled my eyes just thinking about it, her huff still echoing in my head like some kind of war cry for the chronically entitled.
The whispering from the other customers hadn’t stopped, and I could still feel the burn of their judgmental stares. I grabbed my phone and pretended to scroll through emails, desperate to sin
