The One Next Door

Coffee, Ketchup, and Pickup Lines

    "I got the job." Sherlock said proudly.
"Good job Sherlock, I knew you would." Molly said happily, giving Sherlock a high five. The girl she was talking to was blonde and kind of petite, with her hair tied back in a messy bun and a smile on her face.
"Hi, I'm Sarah." She said with a smile, holding out a hand for Sherlock to shake.
"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock said, not really looking at her but shaking her hand nevertheless. "Jeanette said something about aprons?" he asked. Once Molly gave him his very own brown apron and a pair of ugly rubber gloves, the morning rush started to come through the door, business men and women, all lugging around brief cases, rolling small suitcases, or talking on Bluetooth earpieces. Molly and Sarah and that Carl guy, who showed up later than Sherlock had, all took the orders and made the coffee, and Sherlock's rookie job was to pass out the coffees, which were in an overabundant supply and piling up on the table.
"Avery!" Sherlock called, holding up an iced something or other with whipped cream on the top. A girl with neon pink hair bustled up the counter, grabbing her coffee with a death glare, and continued out the door.
"George!" Sherlock sighed, holding up a large coffee. A man with a suspicious looking fedora came up to the counter and took the coffee, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. It made Sherlock wonder if he was some sort of secret agent, and if his name was actually George...
"Come on Sherlock." Molly insisted, putting two more made coffees down on the table, where at least ten were sitting.
"It's not my fault these people are so slow!" Sherlock defended. "Charlie, Rosy, Louise!" he called, pushing three coffees to the front of the counter where three anxious looking people collected their beverages and shuffled out the door.
"Joan!" Sherlock called. There was a small silence, and for the people that were paying attention, they all craned their necks to see whose coffee was sitting on the counter. No one came up.
"I have a Joan up here, medium roast, large?" Sherlock called. Still, no one came up. "Alright then, Graham, Meghan, Alex, get your coffees!" Three more people came up to the counter. Finally the crowd started to die down, around seven thirty. There was still a steady line of costumers, but the time it took to make the coffee and for them to place their order, Sherlock was having a little bit of downtime. He was kind of disappointed to be honest; he was so busy with these stupid coffee cups that he couldn't be bothered to see if any of the cute guys from town had shown up. Then again, Molly told him to act straight, which he was doing a fine job with of course, still it would have to end sometime. Joan's coffee still sat on the counter, undoubtedly cold by now, and Sherlock couldn't help but wondered if she had some sort of important meeting, or maybe had left something at home, because no one else seemed to have abandoned their drinks like that. Oh well, at least she paid beforehand.
"Emily." Sherlock sighed, holding up yet another coffee, getting tired of his hands getting burned or frozen, depending on what beverage the people decided they wanted. A girl came up and grabbed the cup, walking off out the door, looking kind of exasperated, as if she hadn't been provided with full and friendly service. Sherlock sighed, looking back to where Molly was blending something in a blender, Carl was taking some lady's order, and Sarah was pouring coffee into a large cup.
"Excuse me?" asked an obviously annoyed voice. Sherlock turned, expecting some stupid business man that thought they could cut in front of everyone in line to be standing there. Instead it was a blonde man, maybe a foot shorter than Sherlock, standing behind the counter. It didn't take Sherlock long to notice the scowl on his face, matched only by what Sherlock saw in the mirror.
"You're excused." Sherlock agreed. The man didn't seem impressed.
"I ordered my coffee about a half hour ago, I thought it was slow service, but maybe you're just stupid." he insisted.
"You're no longer excused." Sherlock decided, scowling right back.
"A large medium roast coffee, sound familiar?" the man snapped.
"Considering that I work in a coffee shop, it should." Sherlock muttered, but as he considered it, Sherlock realized that there was a medium roast coffee sitting on the counter, Joan's.
"Does your name happen to be Joan?" he asked, picking up the coffee that sat secluded in the far corner of the ordering counter.
"The name's John, you prick, do I look like a bloody woman to you?" John snapped, grabbing the coffee from Sherlock's hands.
"Well, now that you mention it..." Sherlock muttered.
"What's going on here?" Molly asked from behind Sherlock.
"This idiot got my name wrong, and now my coffee's cold." John snapped.
"It'll match your soul." Sherlock muttered. The man's face turned an impossible shade of white, and he looked like he was about to vault over the counter and strangle Sherlock with his apron.
"I'm sorry sir, he's new, may I make you a new coffee?" Molly insisted.
"You most certainly may." John agreed, not taking his glaring eyes off of Sherlock. Molly just smiled, grabbing the coffee and setting off to work on a new one. John was left standing at the counter, moving aside for a couple of people to get their coffees, tapping his fingers impatiently on the counter as he waited.
"Take a chill pill mate." Sherlock offered as he passed along a coffee to some lady with a bun in her hair, closely representing Princess Leia.
"I'm not your mate, shut up." John insisted.
"Got somewhere to be?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes, actually, I'm supposed to meet the moving trucks, ten minutes ago." John decided, checking his watch and looking annoyed.
"You're leaving I hope." Sherlock muttered.
"Moving in, actually." John snapped, and tapped his fingers even more aggressively against the counter.
"Shame." Sherlock muttered.
"We're so sorry about that sir." Molly decided, handing John the now steaming coffee.
"I'm sure you are." John agreed, taking the coffee rather forcefully and giving Sherlock a nasty look before walking out of the shop.
"What a jerk." Molly decided.
"You said it." Sherlock agreed, and got on to his normal routine. By nine o'clock the shop was practically empty, a few people sat in the chairs, sipping coffees or nibbling on muffins, other than that it was practically deserted, everyone off to work, where they'll undoubtedly be partaking in very exciting activities of typing and writing.
"So, that was fun, wasn't it?" Molly asked with a smile.
"Not particularly." Sherlock muttered, leaning against the counter and wiping his hands on his apron.
"Well, it gets better. Once you start getting to know the place, it gets better." Molly assured.
"Who was that guy that kept yelling at you?" Sarah asked, coming up and sitting on the counter.
"Oh, some guy named John, someone wrote Joan and his coffee got all mixed up." Sherlock shrugged.
"That would be me." Carl admitted, raising his hand guiltily. He was pimply little guy, who looked like he didn't weigh one hundred pounds with his shoes on.
"That's fine, mistakes happen. I'm just glad he got screwed up, seemed like the type that deserves a hiccup in his day." Molly assured.
"Well, you handled it well, I suppose." Sarah decided.
"Try to be a little bit nicer to the costumers though, their money is your pay check." Molly insisted.
"Well, their attitude certainly shouldn't be an added bonus." Sherlock decided. Sarah laughed, but cast a look over to the people sitting at the tables and lowered her volume.
"Usually people aren't jerks though; we're a pretty laid back town around here." Carl said, jumping in on the conversation. Sherlock gave him a kind of glare, and he seemed to shrink a little bit.
"So, what now?" Sherlock asked with a sigh.
"We'll clean up, maybe I'll show you how to brew the coffee or something, for starters, and then we leave." Molly decided.
"Wait, that's it?" Sherlock asked.
"We're only the morning shift, some more workers come in after us to handle lunch hour." Molly shrugged.
"Brilliant, I can get back to work on that clay." Sherlock decided.
"Clay?" Sarah asked.
"I'm an artist." Sherlock admitted, as if that explained everything.
"He's really something." Molly agreed with a very sarcastic tone.
"So, what's your relationship, are you two like, a couple or something?" Sarah asked.
"No!" Molly said quickly.
"God no, nothing like that." Sherlock assured.
"We live in the same apartment building; he's like my annoying little brother." Molly decided.
"I'm older than you!" Sherlock defended.
"Then that's just sad." Molly agreed. Sarah just laughed, but their conversation was interrupted by some guy that was ordering a bagel. When he left, Molly showed Sherlock how to make some of the more simple brews, and Carl went over how to run the cash register, should he ever need to. Sherlock was a fast learner, of course everything on the register was extremely self-explanatory, and the coffee was easy as well. In no time they clocked in and grabbed their coats from the hooks, walking out into the now sunny sidewalks.
"Well, I'm starving." Molly decided.
"Well then you should eat." Sherlock agreed.
"Let's go get some lunch, on me, for your first day on the job." Molly decided.
"Sounds good to me, just no vegan places, alright? They creep me out." Sherlock insisted. Molly just laughed, leading him down the road to a small little restaurant on the corner, a burger shop, which was the exact opposite of a vegan restaurant. The whole place smelled like grease and happiness, and Sherlock's stomach was quick to growl. When they placed their orders and sat down, Sherlock lounged on his chair and looked out the window.