My third car ride of the day was largely pleasant, in no small part because I didn’t have a sword jabbing at my trachea. It was nearly 7 AM, which in drive-thru espresso terms means I lost on most of my regular customers. From here until the end of the day, stragglers and out-of-towners make up most of my sales. I liked to call them “non-recurring” behind their backs.

On the way over, I tried my best to explain the concept of coffee to Malquea. Where it comes from, the different types of beans, how grind affects flavor. She understood it quickly and even asked me some pointed questions that I couldn’t answer right away. The hardest part would no doubt be teaching her to use the espresso machine, since it seems like technology is nonexistent where she’s from.

The prickling rain had subsided, leaving the earth covered in a dew that reflected the sun’s rays beautifully. It was, in other words, the perfect time to do business. I unlocked Big Gusto Espresso’s door, making a mental checklist of all the things I had to teach Malquea.

“This is it,” I said as I stepped inside. “It’s small but it’s ho—”

I turned. There was no one there. Panicking, I searched the sides of the building until I found her. Malquea had taken one of the two chairs I set out for customers and dragged it far into the middle of the parking lot. She had expertly chosen a spot that would cause the maximum amount of disruption, taking up four spots.

“Mind if I ask you what you’re doing?” I said as I hastily went outside. She had her legs folded, giving her a look of cool indifference.

“I will take today to study. Don’t mind me.”

“Don’t you want to study the, you know… product?”

“No wonder you are a fool with an ever-growing relationship with bankruptcy. I will study the most important element of success: customer behavior.”

The way she said it was so haughty and holier-than-thou that it made me physically cringe. Still, I couldn’t lose my temper yet.

“Fine, do whatever you want. Where’s your pen and paper? Computer?”

“I assume those are instruments of documentation?” After I nodded, she continued. “I have no need for that. I’ve been trained to compartmentalize information in my head since I was a little girl. I once recited from memory all twelve volumes of King Hostimar’s Quenching Campaign—in both my native language and in Yggridan. I will report my findings whenever I see fit during the day.”

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My mouth was agape. So many things to say, so many questions. I was about to open my mouth when she pointed to something behind me.

“You have a customer,” she said.

“I guess I do,” I said as I watched a small white car pull up into the Big Gusto’s ordering window.

“I see customer service isn’t your forte,” she said, shaking her head. I could already tell this would be an annoying experience.

I worked until lunch, which I took at 10:45 AM. There had been a steady stream of customers until then. A lot of new faces, people who were curious about the menu and excited to try anything I recommended. For having such a tiny amount of space, we had a surprisingly large selection of items. It’s a little overwhelming for a newcomer, which is why I try to ask them a few questions before suggesting a drink. In a market as hyper-competitive and commoditized as coffee, you have to find your edge to survive.

I must have done a decent job, because I didn’t hear from Malquea at all. I called her over to join me for lunch.

“So,” I said, dividing a salad I packed with me into two containers. “What did you think? Wowed with my skills?”

“Not really,” she said with a deadpan expression. I think having her broadsword pierce my stomach would have hurt less.

“Wh-Wh-Why do you say that?”

“It’s a rather long list.”

“I have time,” I said.

“Can we have food first?” she said, reaching out for one of the bowls I held on either hand with spinach and an assortment of other colorful vegetables. I instinctively retracted it, bringing it close to my chest and out of her reach.

“No, I’d like to hear you say it.”

“Your menu is far too large, making customers have to overthink and lose interest. You try to help by making suggestions, but all you’re doing is increasing the wait times. On four different occasions I noticed one of those machines, the—”

“They’re cars.”

“Right. On four different occasions I noticed cars turn into this lot with the intention to purchase from you, only to quickly renege and leave when they noticed you had two cars waiting to be serviced.”

“It’s about quality of service!” I spat out. “That’s my differentiator.”

“Your differentiator is making customers wait longer?” she said plainly.

“That’s not…”

“I am unfamiliar with the ways of this world, but the layout, size and location of your business is designed so that you can sell as many products as possible using a limited amount of space. Your customers, meanwhile, want their goods fast.”

“That’s… surprisingly perceptive,” I said. The whole argument had taken me by surprise. Was this woman really not from this world? Were these all things she picked up just by observing me for a few hours? She was so on-point it made me shiver.

“Furthermore—” she said. I didn’t want to hear any more, so I pushed the bowl onto her hands and ate my food facing the other way.

“I’ll hold my comments for now,” she said. “Are all the men in this world this egotistical?”

“You have no right,” I murmured. She flicked her face up, trying to get a better read on what I was trying to say. I took her attentive gaze as a sign I should continue. “You push yourself on me, eat my food, and force me to take care of you! And you have the nerve to tell me I’m doing my one thing—serving coffee—wrong? I can’t believe this!”