"Oh, come on, Maureen... pour it in the medium cup! I won't have any room for my whipped cream," the lanky man whined. He adjusted his brown tortoise shell glasses and then began to study the cuffs of his grey wool coat as if assured that his orders would be followed without further prodding.
"Alex! For the love of God... you ordered a small. I have to serve it in the small cup. If I put it in the medium cup, you'll just whine that I didn't give you enough and before you know it you'll have a medium with whipped cream for the price of a small. Can't you just be happy with free whipped cream?!" Hands firmly in place on her hips, Maureen narrowed her aqua eyes at her opponent, pink and purple hair falling haphazardly onto her face.
The young man looked up from where he was adjusting his red plaid scarf, an innocent and befuddled look on his dark features. "Well, then," the lush, pink lips began to move, "You may as well just give me the medium and save yourself the trouble."
Maureen gawked, but to her credit it was only a moment, since in the next moment she was slamming her hand down on the carefully neutral counter in one last gesture of defiance before her predicted sigh of defeat. "Sprinkles?" she enquired dejectedly.
"If it isn't too much trouble," Alex replied in all sincereness. To his credit, his eyes twinkled in near-innocense until he was distracted by the jingle of another customer entering.