Thread: When Passion Becomes Blind (Niah & Manofyourdream)

Myra had ignored his initial snide remark, in which he clearly thought it comical that she had been left with the responsibility of looking after the Bistro whilst Tom was gone. Instead she simply told herself to rise above it. She had been doing so just fine up until this point, no need to tarnish her perfect record by biting back. The male certainly made it hard though, especially when his actions were unprovoked. Myra was always polite and kind, even to him, she would understand his attitude if she were unpleasant towards the male, but that simply wasn't the case. Funnily enough, for a well traveled and relatively street smart woman, the fact that her Indian heritage may have something to do with it never stayed in her mind for too long. She really wasn't one of these die hard, social justice warriors that thought racism lurked everywhere. Sure, once or twice she had found herself questioning if it was due to the colour of her skin, since he always seemed friendly enough to white people. However it wasn't like there was an abundance of ethnic minorities in this town. The vast majority of the population were white and so Myra had never really seen enough of Derrick around other people of colour to assume that his behavior was racist. It was a term that she didn't use lightly and so wasn't about to go brandishing it around simply because someone was mean to her. He had never used any racial slurs or made any sort of outward comments that could be construed as hate speech. So maybe he just didn't like her and that was that? Her patience was tested further as he inquired about her comment, which she knew at the time had been non too subtle. She had allowed her tiredness to overcome with questioning his manners and at this point she could just ride it out or try and pull back. Deciding that it was probably best not to antagonize him, she once again didn't rise to the bait. No, just reminding myself of something. She replied after handing over the coffee, a fake stepford wife-esque smile donning her face. Her expression was at best sarcastic and insincere, but it was all that she could muster tonight. He gave a wry smirk, the bastard was enjoying this! Myra was half furious at him and half furious at herself, because even when he was being a complete jerk, she still found that smile sexy. What the hell was wrong with her? By all rights she should find him as appealing as gum on the bottom of her shoe. Instead whenever those dark eyes of his looked over her, she could feel a shift within herself. From the outside it may have easily been mistaken for awkwardness or tension, well she supposed the latter was correct, just not in the way that most might think. Then came the kicker, she observed him wincing as if she had passed him arsenic to drink. Soon he quickly began berating her coffee, before ending with a veiled threat about Tom being informed. Myra bit the inside of her cheek and her nails dug into the palm of her hands slightly, she was doing her best to control her temper. It was a lie and he damn well knew it! Myra bet that if she poured the coffee onto his lap, it would soon feel hot enough for him. It was impossible for the coffee to be stale, as every cup was made fresh. He had just literally watched her prepare it from scratch, using the coffee machine . Honestly at this point she just wanted to scream at him, but something told her that, that's exactly what he wanted. For her to make a scene and embarrass herself by becoming hysterical. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Instead she leaned forward slightly, placing her hands upon the bar. And I don't expect your customers would be impressed to know a supposed engineer can't tell the difference between an at home coffee machine and a bistro coffee machine. It's basic engineering, in fact... Myra stood back and walked over to the machine, placing her hand upon it. You don't even have to know anything about technology. Turns out even Luddites should be able to tell them apart due to the fact that they look nothing alike. At this point Myra became sarcastic and patronizing, but to be honest she really was past caring. Would you like me to explain? You see an at home coffee machine produces a lot of coffee into a glass jar, which you then pour several cups out of. If left for hours, it does indeed go stale. Whereas a bistro machine, produces one cup of coffee which is first poured into a metal jug. The bistro operator than adds to the jug milk, cream, sugar, flavouring... whatever the customer wants. Before pouring the finished product into a cup. Like I just did, thirty seconds ago. Which means your coffee is physically incapable of being cold, unlike you. Now I could stand here and explain to you exactly what I mean when I say the word 'Luddite', as I can tell the term drifted right over your pretty head. But as it is now eleven at night, I'm afraid the bistro is closed. So I'm going to have to ask you to leave and take your unappetizing coffee with you. Myra let out a breath that she seemed to have been keeping in from the moment that she had arrived in this town. The young woman had effectively told Derrick where to shove his attitude without once raising her voice, swearing or crying. A classy and dignified way to be bitchy, if ever there was one. There was every likelihood that her cheek could land her in hot water though. She would just have to hope that her past months of hard work and many happy customers, would outweigh the complaint of one when Tom found out.