Elite Comic Universe PBP

Bee Haw had an afternoon shift at Elite Chai, helping to cover when the competitors who attended classes at the University were likely to be in class.

She introduced herself to the baseline staff (and any other contestants on this shift). She listened closely to the instructions.

They handed her a red apron to wear and had her focus on the customer service. Taking orders.

She was enthusiastic and hard working. Determined to be the best barista she could be!

"Welcome! Howdy, neighbor. We're so glad you stopped by. What can I get you? We've got chai, Ethiopian coffee, smoothies, delicious vegetarian snacks. Have a look and let me know what sounds good to you!"

"Oh that sounds so good! We'll get that round up for you in a flash!" (And then an encouraging smile to the person whipping up the drinks and food.)

"I'm gonna write your name on the cup." And she'd remember it. Every customer today was a future regular! "Can you help me spell that? I want to be sure I get it right for you."

Xing-shen was here, that was the extent of her work ethic. She tapped at her phone and ignored the customers, or gave them a shrug when they asked for help. The extent of her customer service was to say to Bee Haw in practiced English, “Hey, new girl, over there.”

Otherwise she was doom scrolling.

Bea smiled at Xing-shen each time she said "Hey, new girl, over there."

And hopped to it! "On it!"

Why shouldn't this clearly shy and busy girl (student?) function as a subtle scout in this battle against customer disenchantment?

She had a good eye for tables that needed clearing.

This was nothing compared to mucking out a stable. And it did look nice to keep it all picked up!

Xing-Shen shrugged and when the place was empty she muttered as she doom-scrolled, “Why you workin’ so hard?”

Bea smiled at her.

"I want our customers to be happy. It feels good to take care of them and keep everything orderly and tidy! It's the only duty I have right now, so I want to give it my all."

"Are you a university student? Are you working on a project or studying for an important test?" Her tone was sympathetic. "I figure you are busy with that, and that's important too."

"No," she said as she doom scrolled. "You American?" Carry a gun?"

No, nothing important? No, not a student? It was hard to tell. But Bea figured it was just her way.

"American, yes. From Oklahoma. Bea Hawkins. Where are you from?"

And then she shook her head. "Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I did the horsemanship events at the rodeo. Not the marksmanship."

She paused and then laughed. "It's the cowboy hat, right? Makes you expect a gunslinger?"

“I just heard Americans like guns and whiskey,” she said.

“Usually fat, too.”

"Oh. Some ... I guess some folks are like that."

"I don't drink." She was also slender, but she didn't comment on that.

"So. Speaking of beverages, do you have a favorite here at the cafe? How long have you worked here? What do you recommend?"

"Chai, or just coffee," she responded. "The rest is pure capitalists' pig-dog bullshit."

"Oh. Still, I see the customers smiling when they drink their smoothies and more complicated teas and coffees."

"What's your favorite kind of food? If you could eat anything?"

She went back to doom scrolling and said, "Why?"

"I was just curious."

"I think I could have anything in the world right now, I'd get a glass of milk and a piece of my mama's cornbread with butter and honey."

"She'd fret to see me selling these caffeine drinks." She shook her head. But it was her job. Her duty. And the people who wanted it chose to drink it. She never expected anyone to follow the Words of Wisdom but people who shared her faith. "But I think it's okay as long as I don't drink any." Coffee and tea were strictly forbidden. Her host family was definitely not setting foot in here.

"I'm glad they sell the smoothies and snacks. So there's something that's not coffee or tea."

"What's cornbread?" she asked trying to picture it looking up from her phone.

"Oh! It's so good. It's like ... halfway between bread and cake. Sweet, savory, crumbly, and moist. You make it with cornmeal, flour, baking powder, eggs, milk, and butter. You make it in a tray or a cast iron skillet. Then slap the butter and honey on top. Every bite is so yummy."

"Really?" she taps on her phone, "Oh, that looks... different. Can you make it?"

"Sure! I can bring some tomorrow for you."

That would be fun. She could make a big batch. Some to share with the folks at contestant house. A couple pieces to wrap up for Xing-Shen. Maybe some chili for the house, too?

"Oh, I should make sure I can find all the ingredients before promising that. But I expect I can!"

This was a big city. They had to cook for themselves, right? Mrs. B might have suggestions for where to buy ingredients if there was anything she had trouble finding. She could text her after her shift at the cafe finished.

She went back to doom scrolling and said, "Ok, what's chili? Is that cold?"

She laughed, keeping a close eye on the door for any arriving customers.

"You'd think that, right? But it's actually a warm stew with meat and beans. Spicy."

"Chili and cornbread," she said as she doom scrolled. She looked up at the young Elite and said, "I'll try it."