Typically, I'd finalize the order and move on to payment. However, this time, I thought it best to expedite things and deal with the payment afterward, so as not to inconvenience any potential future customers (not that there were any at that moment). With deft hands, I prepared the McFlurries and returned to the counter, only to find them absent. After a quick scan, I spotted them outside. Balancing the desserts on a tray, I ventured out to them. She caught sight of me, her smirk now more pronounced, refusing to avert her gaze. She maintained direct eye contact as I approached the door. It seemed as though one of her friends intended to hold the door open for me, yet she silenced them with a subtle gesture. I fumbled with the tablet to open the door, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Finally stepping outside, I was met with her scrutinizing gaze.
Without hesitation, she remarked, "There you are, took you long enough." Perplexed, I replied, "Yes, sorry, I didn't notice you had gone outside." I wasn't entirely sure why I felt the need to apologize once again. The group hadn't paid for their order, nor had they waited. Her friends converged and claimed their ice creams from the tray I held. With only one left, she approached me, eyeing it with a hint of disappointment. She voiced her complaint, "But I wanted strawberry; this is chocolate." And again, I apologized, "I'm sorry, your friends already took the strawberry ones." A slight smirk danced across her lips. "It's alright, it's been quite a wait. I can manage a little longer while you prepare another one." She plucked the chocolate ice cream from the tray.
Hurrying to assemble another McFlurry, I returned outside. To my surprise, she was alone, listlessly poking at the chocolate ice cream with her spoon. As I approached the door, she scooped a spoonful into her mouth. Our eyes met once more, and she promptly spat the ice cream back into the container. Her smirk broadened into a genuine smile, her face brightening. "Finally! I had to try it for myself. Definitely not my flavor," she declared, holding the ice cream out to me. "But you should have it; we wouldn't want it to go to waste." She accepted her McFlurry from my hand and rejoined her friends, glancing back with a wave and a smile. Meanwhile, I found myself taking the first spoonful from the very same McFlurry she had just spat in.
Since there were no customers and I was working alone, I could really enjoy eating it without feeling any disgust at what I was doing. It was simply delicious. When I finished, I realized they hadn't paid for their order. Given that I was alone in the store, I decided to delete the order. I closed up the store shortly afterward and took care of the cleanup. She never left my mind after that encounter.