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Outside the cafe the cars silently hover by. It's a busy morning, but not loud. The nightly scheduled rain cooled down the air and washed the thin film of dust off the manicured streets. At the counter, a small queue is forming behind a young woman with long brown hair, summer blue fingernails topped with glitter. Unaware of the angry stares behind her she continues her conversation  "You know, I'll go to the surgery tomorrow. All this stress from work has me reaching out for one too many cookies." Before she could go on talking, the barista confirmed her order. "Chai-latte with extra brown sugar. One chocolate-infused gluten free cookie. To go. €10,49." She locked in the eyes of the smiling face at her left, her eyes lining up wit two red dots on the screen. The price flashed once, her account statement blinking at the top right corner. "Confirm" she voiced, her account updated, and a warning appeared. She sighed. Her drink budget nearly consumed and not even halfway through the month.
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"Anyway", she turned back to the barista, "my dad set the budgets far too low. He’s so detached from reality, it’s not even funny. I'm gonna have a word with him". She threw the barista a kiss, who motionless swiveled his metallic face and robotic arm to the next client. The lady at the front of the cafe is dipping her finger in the cinnamon-free milk foam. She takes no pleasure in those gimmicks that are supposed to enhance flavors but in truth distract from the core. With the confidence of someone who has lived their life, the lady walks into the street whose pavement is no more, and strolls through the cars and electric scooters. A young lady who scoffs at her is greeted with the age-old gesture of "mind your own business".
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