"Oh, come on!" the woman hissed, dropping to her knees in front of the pot. "f*****g s**t. It came out so perfect. Goddess."
She wasn’t even looking at me. Just glaring at the mess on the floor. Her fingers hovered just above the sauce like she might try to salvage it. She muttered, “You should have watched where you were going,” under her breath, her voice sharp with frustration. “It took me hours to get it just right.” She sounded like she was about to cry, or punch someone, namely me.
My mouth opened, then shut again.
"You’re the one who wasn’t looking," I said, wiping my shirt in vain. "My outfit is ruined. I was on my way to greet the King and Queen."
She huffed, clearly unimpressed by royalty—or by me. “Congratulations. Now what the f**k am I going to do with my sauce, you blind
