I went back to the counter, taking multiple orders while waiting for the rich to come next, being that the tourists were crowding our shop. Most of them were old Italian men in white polo shirts who smelled of smoke and espresso. I guessed that they were riding a clean red moped, even though that's a basic stereotype and not many people do that. Finally, a tall lady in a blue dress stepped up to the counter and looked at the menu. Her diamond earrings glimmered in the sunlight, creating reflections of dancing silver on the wall. "Fourteen ounce cappuchino," she said without interest, pulling out her wallet. I nodded, typing the order into my newly improved cash thing (I decided to call it that since it didn't have a name) and gestured to the waiting line which ended up being about fifteen people.
"I can help who's next!" I called.
A boy, about the same age as me, walked up and cocked his head as he looked me in the eye. "Do I know you...?" he asked cautiously.
I knit my eyebrows. "Uh, no. No, actually, you don't."
"But I've seen you before... I swear I have..."
"No. Because I don't recognize you at all. So no."
"Then why..."
"Please just order," I sighed.
***
"I have a brother....?"