If you haven't already, read Part 1.
Sure, it would have happened sooner or later, I just wouldn't have ever imagined that my departure from the cupcake shop would happen the way that it did. I had been really sick all week, my voice on the brink of being lost, everything congested and muffled and tiresome. I shouldn't have gone in to work that day.The morning had been unusually busy and the customary afternoon shit-storm beyond full force because, in addition to the regular m-f-ers, some kid was having a riotous, let's-throw-shit-all-over-the-place birthday party. It was so busy that I didn't have time to think; all I could do was hustle and try not to cough and snot over everything or pass out.
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He looked at me, twitching. "YEH? NOICE?"And before I even had a chance to answer, he said, "TOO BAD YER GOTTA SET IT ON FIRE," slammed it back down, looked confused for a second, and ran away.Shortly after Crackhead Jones left, a dusty, scabby-looking guy wearing a floppy bucket hat came in, gravitating towards the Victoria sponge cake and enthusiastically waving a ten pound note around in the air.My stomach dropped and I thought oh shit, not again, because the last time I encountered this guy he was threatening to throw a cupcake in my face.
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He was looking at the ground, shuffling his feet.
"Howmuchisdat?" he asked.
"One-twenty, please."
"Howmuchisdat," he asked again, a little angry.
"One. Pound. Twenty. Please."
"Howmuch."
"ONE POUND TWENTY."
"Howmuchisdat."
At this point I was like, man, fuck this guy, and admittedly didn't try very hard to hide it as I told him, again, "ONE POUND AND TWENTY PENCE, PLEASE."
The guy leaned in and hissed, "I KNOW. DAT'S TOO MUCH."
"What?"
"TOO MUCH, DAT'S TOO EXPENSIVE," he said, strangely fishing change out of his pocket at the same time.
"Well," I told him, "Don't buy it then."
"Yeh," he said, counting the money is his hand, "Well, Ifrowitinyerface."
"What?"
He put the money on the counter and looked right at me. "I FROW IT IN YER FACE."
I looked at him for a hard second, slid his money off of the counter, handed him his cake and, in one of my less inspiring moments, said, "Whatever."
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