Snapples were meant for sharing

"You are a spoiled fucking brat!" I scream at Consuela as I whip a set of tongs at her head.  She manages to duck just in time for the tongs, but didn't prepare for the scooper that I whipped two seconds later -- and so, it bounces off her right temple causing her to sway in her spot for a moment before she regains her composure.

"Mia, what iz yers problems?!?" she yells back at me as she grabs some ice from the cooler and places it against her head.  I'm surprised that Consuela hasn't thrown something back at me, but I think she realizes that she's pushed me too far this time.

"My prob-lu-hem," I start, ignoring the customers in line while I give her a piece of my mind, "Is that you have no compassion!" 

Consuela rolls her eyes and makes an apology gesture towards those who are still waiting to be served.

I'm not done with her.  I cross my arms and wait until Consuela has no choice but to rescind her earlier decision and make a sandwich for the woman standing at the counter who can't afford to pay in full. 

A moment later when I've calmed down I apologize to the other customers and take their orders.  The woman hands Consuela the change she has managed to collect from panhandling, and simply asks for a water before sitting at a table in the back that our Apple-faced friend finished cleaning a moment earlier. 

"You're very kind," one of the customers says to me as they look to  the woman sitting at the back eating her sandwich and sipping every now and then from her water.

I nod, and then brush back some of my hair before placing their sandwich in the toaster oven.

"Drink?" I ask them when I turn back around.  They tell me they would like a Sprite and a Snapple.

I put both drinks on the counter near the cash while I ring up their order.  A moment later the customer walks over to the woman eating at the back of the shop and hands her the Snapple, then turns back towards me and the cash to pay.

I smile and thank the customer for their generosity -- telling them that their next lunch is compliments of the house.  They place their change in the tip jar and walk out.

I turn to Consuela who is refusing to look at me.   With her back turned to me she busies herself grilling meat for the taco filling.  I walk over to her and tell her that she could learn a thing or two from that last customer of ours, but she just snarls back at me; telling me to 'leeves herz alones'.  Which I do.

I smile and turn to the next customer, taking their order and making sure that our Apple-faced friend is watching so that I can put him on sandwich duty in the next day or so.  I like this sandwich/taco shop that we've started. 

And if fat-ass Consuela could put more energy into sharing some of her good fortune instead of squandering her money on another Juicy Couture track suit; well, I'd like it a whole lot more.