"What! You have a problem with my order!". She questioned, leaving me at a loss for words.
"I can see how you look at my order, internally criticizing them. Or am I wrong?!".
No, she isn't. But how did she know that? Does she have some kind of power that enables her to see through my thoughts?!!
"It doesn't take a mind reader to know what is going through your head, boy".
'Boy?... What is wrong with this woman?'. I retorted, internally.
"Are you offended that I called you a boy?".
At her question, my eyebrows twitched. For a brief moment, I stopped what I was doing and turned my head to look at her.
"Oh those eyes. It shows how desperate you want to smack me in the face".
I don't know what is the problem with this woman, and honestly, I don't think I want to know.
"Ma'am. If you don't mind, will you please not talk to me while I attend to your order".
"Someone is with attitude".
Did she not hear what I just said? I see she is one of those persistent kind who feel the need to make small talk with everything and everyone they come across.
"Tell me boy. Aren't you too young to be working here".
She bent her upper body down and rested her arms on the table in front of me. Her clothes fell a little, revealing her cleavage and blue bra worn underneath.
Can she get any more indecent? That question could be answered if I were staying behind her when she bent her body. I bet I could see what she has underneath there with that skirt of hers that is barely covering up her thighs.
"Tell me, come on, I won't tell anyone". She said, bringing her face even closer.
I keep reminding myself that she is a customer and I am in no position to rile her up.
But I do have to say, her eyes sure are sharp. The majority of the customers say nothing about my age as most of them think I am of age.
She however noticed. She saw past what condition had turned my face into and was able to see that I was underaged.
Indeed, a job like this is not exactly ideal for a fourteen-year-old to take on. But then again, there are not that many a job available for a fourteen-year-old to take on.
I have tried my hand at every other job I could. Working at a construction site, hawking on the streets, washing dishes in a restaurant, and pamphlet distribution.
Name it, and it will only take a while for me to remember if I have or haven't.
Some I worked hard on, others I had to stop working on due to my body's condition.
Take working at a construction site for example. I believe I had underestimated the adequate amount of manpower needed to take on that job.
Before I started, I was warned by the workers that it was something I could not handle. I turned deaf ears to them, insisting that I be allowed a chance at it.
It wasn't until I was given a chance to prove my worth to them. It was then that I realized what they were trying to explain to me.
It had nothing to do with resilience or preservance. Rather, it is a question of can your body can bear it or not.
Answer?... My underaged body couldn't so I had to stop before things got out of hand.
I spent a while working the other jobs until I got this one. The pros of this job outweighed every other job I had, and it barely had any cons to discourage me from taking it.
That sums up how I came to have this job now. While it might be a concern for an underage kid working in such an establishment, I don't think it is actually against the law.
'Or is it?..'.
Come to think of it, does this country even have a law it abides by?...
Don't know, and will never know. My plates are pretty much full to have myself be concerned with such matters.
"Yes, I am underaged, 14 actually. Now can you stop disturbing me and let me focus on what I am doing". I retorted, politely masking my annoyance.
"14". She repeated and added; "That is one hell of a young age to start working, though not as young as mine. Not like this is a bragging contest or anything like that".
I ignored the woman and her chattering, focusing only on the task at hand.
Customers like her are a dime a dozen, not anything new yet not so common to the point that I would get used to having their presence around.
"Let me guess. Mom is dead and Dad is nowhere to be found. That's it, right".
I am trying my best to ignore her, but some words she says should not be glossed over.
"Yes. My mom is dead and so is my dad. Happy now". My tone came off as polite while my expression demanded silence from her.
"Dang it. I was close to hitting the nail right in the bull's eye, wasn't I?...". She replied to me with a sarcastic tone, leaving me speechless.
'Is this supposed to be normal?'. I thought with a confused demeanour.
Don't get me wrong, I knew she was anything but normal based on how she started a conversation and tried to get all familiar.
But this? It is as though I am communicating with a wall that doesn't listen yet does what it wants. A living deaf wall if I say.
"You know, with a grumpy attitude like that, you will never become popular with the girls or your peers". She says.
Is that supposed to be an advice or an insult? I am perplexed as to which it is.
Besides, the only reason I am being like this is because she is intruding on my working hours.
Without her yapping, I could have answered her demands in seconds and had her be on her way. Then, I would have used the rest of the time to start preparing myself for that short nap I intended to take.
I bet attending to customers like her is one of the reasons why I started having that weird dream.
The entrance door clicked, instantly calling my attention to the male shadow figure that was about to walk through.
See what I am saying? Wasted my precious time until another was about to take her place.