Keeping To Schedule

The day after the police station debacle, I was up bright and early for work again. Donning my suit, combing my hair, I was on the clock and swinging open the shutters before my shift had even officially started. 

Soon the heavy whirr of machinery began to resound, and the pleasant aroma of freshly grounded coffee beans slowly enveloped the place with the way it does so lavishly, and very much temptingly. 

In fact, so enticing was its scent, that I already had my first customer of the day before I could even fully open. Swiveling around towards the counter, I could see her nose wrinkling with desire, wide eyes shimmering with her intentions. Oh, I knew that look, that lick of her lips… yep, here it comes, three, two one -

"Make me something, won't you?" 

"Mmm," I took a glass, swiped a cloth, and began doing my best weathered bartender impression. "The usual, I suppose?"