"You don't know the story behind the actions. You have no right to comment."
Warm coffee trickled down the cup, and on to it's plate when another waiter accidentally pushed me. I scowled as I set the coffee on the counter again and wiped it off with a tissue, taking it from it's floral box. I walked down to the table who wanted the coffee and settled it down. It was an old woman, with wrinkled skin and lips turned downwards. She looked quite lonely. I quickly walked away, before she could trigger a conversation to heal her loneliness. I was not in a mood right now to talk to any old woman right now.
I took orders from the other tables and walked back to the counter. My best friend, Hania, was standing beside the coffee maker now. It's voice was drowned by the chit chatter of the people around us. It sounded as if thousand of bees had come to the coffee shop and started speaking all at once. The noise was loud and familiar, and it helped me relax a little. That is why I decided that this was the best place to work in the first place. I had come to this place the first time when I wanted to escape home, which was filled with problems. I had run away momentarily and had loved this place instantly. As soon as I got home, I told my mother I wanted to work here. After getting a few slaps from my mother, because of her worry, she allowed me to work here. My father was of no use. He was always drunk in one way or another, and hardly did his job. His parents had died at a very small age and he had been this way since then. My mother also came from a poor family and so did my father. This equalled to a destroyed and poor family. We had food for only two times a day, we had no bed, we had no luxury, we could not go to school and the list went on and on.
Hania nudged me, pulling me back in to reality. I raised my eyebrows. "What?" I asked. She pointed to the door. Outside the door, stood a sleek black Ferrari. I was confused. It seemed so unlikely for a person in a Ferrari to come to this coffee shop. It may be famous but it's name (Babbu Ji Coffee shop) and condition was hardly the one for rich people. I looked in interest and mostly curiosity as a girl stepped out from the Ferrari. She was wearing a black and pink floral shirt, and blue jeans, both of which were tightly fitted to her bodice. Her nose was slightly turned up as she walked in the coffee shop. Without even glancing in any other direction, she made a bee line for the counter. As she came closer, I did a good survey of her. With her hazel eyes, black hair and fair complexion, she was the prettiest person in the whole shop. I felt a pang of jealousy and disgust. Why do rich people have to be awarded with everything? And why do they have to be so arrogant about it?
The whole shop had turned silent with her arrival. It was hardly ever that a rich person came to this shop. Everyone was looking at her like she was the newest model of a Samsung mobile phone. Rich snob remained unaware of the attention she was getting and called a girl to take her order. I wondered why she didn't just sit down and wait for one of us to take her order, but I shook the thought away. I thought and observed too much. The girl on the counter hastily, went to the rich snob. "I want a cup of coffee and a brownie." Rich snob said. Haughtiness touched her tone. Arrogance radiated from her posture. The girl on the counter seemed to notice it too, and backed away a little. I felt sorry for that girl. No one deserved to be crushed by just the attitude of a person like this.
The girl on the counter handed the Rich Snob her coffee and brownie quietly. Rich snob took it, holding the cup by the handle, her fingers slightly bent, and put a hand on the bottom of the plate of her brownie, sweeping the plate in to her hands. Then, without a second glance at anybody, she walked towards the first empty table she could see. Her clothes fitted even more to her body when she walked. Apparently, no one taught her the word modesty.
I don't know why i did it. I don't know why I walked over to Rich Snob. Maybe it was out of curiosity. Maybe it was out of interest. I don't know. But all I know is that, my conversation with Rich Snob will always be there, buried in my mind. There is no way that I could forget her.
I sat down on the table with Rich Snob. I had taken off my apron and asked Khalid for a break. He had agreed. Rich Snob looked up. Her eyes were cold, emotionless, and she looked bored. It was almost as if we were too unimportant or boring to be the company of Rich Snob. She raised her eyebrows at me. "Wasn't the word modesty taught to you?" The words tumbled out of my mouth, uninvited.
She looked at me, disbelief evident on her perfect features. Her eyes flashed for a moment, before turning in to the same cold and emotionless balls I saw, when she looked up at me. "Don't speak when you don't know." She replied coolly.
I felt my anger spark too. "What do I need to know? You are rich and it's obvious by the way you talk and walk and act that you have arrogance filled inside you. It seems to be leaking out of you, girl." I snapped at her. I didn't know why I acted like that, but I turned back to Rich Snob, before this thought invaded my mind, and forced me to be polite.
The girl slammed her hand on the table and stood up. She looked dangerous with her eyes flashing with fire, her fists closed, the muscle in her jaw twitching and her nose was close to mine as she spoke in the cool, soft voice of hers that sent chills down my back. "You think the rich have got it all, don't you? Well we don't! We don't have everything! We have problems too, and I swear to you that they are more than yours. Do you know how long have I spent convincing myself that I am not the worst person in the whole world? Do you know how long my parents have destroyed my hard work and made me believe that I am, in fact, the worst daughter they could have had? Do you know how long I have faced their oppression? Do you know that I have wanted to die for so long?" I was shaken. Rich Snob apparently was too. She swallowed and slammed some money on the table. "Here. I should have known. Poor people are always out for the rich's money. They think we've all got it so good. But I'll tell you the truth. We don't!"
She ran out of the shop then. I didn't try to stop her, to apologize. I was in shock. She was right, the rich snob. I had no right to judge her, to think all those things about her, when it was her cure for inferiority. Maybe her way of doing it was wrong, but she wasn't deliberately making anyone feel inferior, like I thought.
I never came across that girl ever again. Sometimes I wonder where she is and how well is she doing. I wonder if she's doing better than me. And lastly, I wonder, if she realized how much that one outburst of hers changed me.
_________
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