The Customas are waiting!

Today I decided to get coffee at a Target store’s Starbucks.

The Barista is blonde and looks extremely tired. The couple in front of me is tall – the girl resembles Demi Lovato and is about 6’1, her boyfriend is 6’3.

The couple’s drink orders are fairly involved, so I know it will take the Barista a few minutes to prepare the drinks.

The couple is still ordering when I hear someone limping behind me.

I turn around and see a huge smelly man, sporting a gray ponytail, boots, cargo shorts, and a cane. He looks like a deranged person who shoots raccoons from his cabin porch.

I quickly turn around and try not to make eye contact. The couple orders and then waits to the side.

The Barista starts making the couple’s drinks and suddenly we hear the raccoon shooter shout:
Raccoon shooter: “Hey missy! Is ya partner on break or are ya by your lonesome today?”
The couple gasps. The Barista glares.
Barista: “I’m by my lonesome today, sorry.”
Raccoon shooter: “Well ya got customas waitin!”
Barista: “I’m trying to make these drinks as quickly as possible. Keep shouting at me and I’ll go even faster.”
The tall couple exchanges nervous looks, and they try to avoid gawking at the Raccoon shooter.

The Barista continues making the drinks when a zit-faced teenager wearing a red polo brings a drink container to the Barista. The teenager then leaves.
Raccoon Shooter: “WAIT! WHY ISN’T HE WORKIN? Y’all have customas waitin!”
The Target cashier from the closest checkout lane gasps and says something in Somali to a nearby cashier. They both glare at the raccoon shooter with their arms crossed.
Barista: “He works at the pizza hut. He was just nice enough to rinse out the container for me.”
Raccoon Shooter: “Hurry it up missy!”
The couple snatches their drinks and scurries away. I order an iced coffee with room for cream. The raccoon shooter keeps huffing and bitching. More cashiers are eying him as if they were plotting to tackle him if necessary.

The Barista gets the iced coffee,
Barista: “Is this enough room?”
Me: “Yeah, that’s fine.”
Barista: “Are you sure? I can dump some out if you want.”
Me: “I wouldn’t want you to keep your customas waitin.”
Barista (snickering): “Thanks.”
I then walked into the store, past the cashiers who were still hawking the raccoon shooter.