1. We Don't Sell Those
"Here's your drink, sir." I set it in front of a man and walk over to Angela.
"Just a half hour till my break." She mutters to me and she reaches for a shaker.
"Mine's in an hour. You're lucky." She nods in agreement and then starts making her drink.
"One piña colada, please." I hear a British voice say. I turn around. "Oh, nevermind," The guy says. "I'll have one piña co-hottie." He winks.
"Oh, sorry, those aren't for sale. But we do have flirty-dickheads half off today!" I snap back.
"Oh, feisty, hey?"
"What's a British boy like yourself doing out here in Cali? If you're looking for the loo, it's not here." I say, mimicking his accent.
"Actually," he says, "I was looking for you."
"Well I wasn't looking for you. So bye." I give him a little wave. He clears his throat.
"My drink?" I roll my eyes and quickly mix together the concoction.
"Your drink." I mock him as I set it in front of him.
"Thanks." He takes a sip and then splashes it on me, making a disgusted face. "Oh, that was terrible!" I give him the death look. "Oh no! I got it all over you! Looks like you'll need to clean that up. You can come with me." He winks.
"British boys are quite a persistent people, are they?" I ask.