He was smooth. Way too smooth for my taste. He sat there in his black roll-neck sweater, with his French existentialist beard, holding a bunch of freshman girls entranced with his expansive gestures and his wry tone of voice.
He was the kind of boy who demands attention. He sat in the middle of the cafe, surrrounded by his admiring coterie, talking just a little louder than anyone else. Not loud enough to be described as 'noisy' or 'pushy', just that one notch up on volume so that everyone could hear what he was saying, how wonderfully eloquently he spoke.
One of the girls, a pretty blonde, made a point, quietly, and into one of those sudden hushes that fall over chatter-filled spaces from time to time, his reply floated.
"Your enthralling radiance lights the way for those less lucid than you."
The blonde girl blushed and the others gazed at him, impressed. Then he turned, looked towards me, lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.
You can imagine how impressed I was with the arrogant little show-off. But I have a job to keep hold of, if I'm going to finish my degree, so I obligingly made him another long black and took it over to his table.
Now, it's possible that I didn't really 'trip' over the pretentious satchel he'd left by his chair, but I appeared to, and the coffee landed square in his lap.
He jumped up, screaming.
"FUCK! You stupid cow! That fucking coffee is fucking hot!"
As he hopped around, dabbing at his crotch with a napkin, I could see his spell was broken.
I smiled. Another service to womankind performed, quietly, and efficiently