let me become the worst waitress in the world

this is a very tiny nice cafe in harlem, 

with three mexican guys in the kitchen, two of them named Juanito

brunch shift. 8h literally non-stop 

(no drinking, no eating, no restroom...

human body has a strange hability to forget its necessities when is busy) 

after learning how to prepare all these american milk-dissolved and strange flavored coffees

electrocuting yourself with the coffe machine

making mistakes with any kind of food orders (doesn't citrus salad sound like seafood salad?)

messing up the cashier (which is from the medieval age)

and explainig all the curious customers that your accent is from barcelona, and that no, people in spain do not have dark skin and exotic traits

people still gives you enough tips 

to pay this fantastic dance workshop,

and add two new resident VIP members to your fridge: welcome beer and dark chocolate

PS: bizarre and endearing customers' characters will be posted soon. Classified and described.