(One month later)

It was 4:30 in the afternoon on a warm Summer afternoon when Craig wandered into Bean Town, the local café that had been so highly recommended by his cousin Steve. He hadn’t exactly explained why, but Steve had told him that it was “unquestionably your kind of place.” After a few months of prodding from his cousin, he took the bait and made the half-hour drive out to Northshore to scope the place out. At worst, he could visit the mall while he was in the area, or even hit up the swimming pool at the community college.

The place was surprisingly crowded, with a customer seated at nearly every table. Not only was nearly every table taken, but most of the tables had only a single customer—one male customer—seated at them. There were a few other tables with couples or small groups, and some others sipping coffee as they admired the abundance of art pieces which adorned the walls. The pieces ranged from a surreal depiction of an igloo sitting next to a tree under a red two-mooned sky, to an abstract splattering of body-shaped blotches that took up most of the rear wall. While the paintings were fascinating, he had a hard time believing that they were the sole draw of the place. In fact, he was already starting to lament the fact that he’d spent a perfectly nice summer afternoon driving out to Northshore, of all places, to…

“Did you want something?” 

On top of it all, the baristas are surly too? Give me a break, Craig thought, turning toward the counter, though there was no one there.  At second glance, he noticed a punk-ish, well-decorated girl sorting through a pile of paintings in the corner. She wasn’t wearing an apron, so he couldn’t tell if she was asking for his order or even if she worked there. “Yeah sure,” he said aloud. “I’ll take a frappuccino.”

“Then go to Starbucks,” a second, smaller but cuter, girl snapped. She was seated at a table reading, but she was wearing an apron and appeared to work there. 

“Well get me something cold then, that tastes like coffee.” 

“Read the menu. I’m not going to do it for you, smartass.” 

Craig briefly scanned the menu, but was soon drawn to a second art piece that seemed far too grotesque to be displayed in public. It resembled some combination of a giraffe and an elderly woman, decorated with scars and boils. “I can believe you display this stuff. This is sick.” 

“Well, look at something else then,” the punk girl spoke up. She was using a step-ladder to hang another surreal piece up near the entrance. From the look of her, he safely assumed most of the more abstract pieces were hers. “Not everyone comes here for the art,” she remarked, leveling a framed canvas. 

“Well they sure as hell don’t come here for the service,” he replied, now standing at the counter. He gave the menu another look, before turning to the seated barista at the table. “I’ll take an iced latte.” 

“I’m on my break.” 

Craig shook his head in disbelief. “Well who’s going to take my order?”

“Iced latte,” a voice suddenly said from behind and above him. “Did you want flavor with that?” 

He jolted around, and was immediately presented with the largest person–let alone girl–he had ever seen. She fashionably wore an undersized secondhand store blouse which stopped at her elbows. A black lycra spaghetti strap top underneath prominently displayed the “Bean Town” logo at his eye level, adorning the largest and most magnificent breasts he had ever laid eyes on.  They were framed by the blouse, buttoned as far up as it would go, with the third button from the bottom straining for dear life.

He stepped back and looked up into her eyes, which impatiently rolled upwards. Their crystal blue dramatically contrasted her dark hair tied back in a ponytail. “Vanilla iced latte?” she offered. The young man only gaped in response at the girl, whose nametag read “Caitlin.” She was leaning back on the counter and her hips, which would meet him at chest level, flared outward in cargo pants that hugged her legs like a second skin and stopped at the tops of her calves, which he could see even from behind the counter.

“Latte?” he managed to squeak out. 
The towering girl put a hand to her head, before closing the distance and leaning onto the counter, which was a quite a ways down from her. While she was now at eye level with him, his eyes were drawn to the immense jugs which hung down from her chest as she leaned on the counter. In fact, most eyes within viewing distance were drawn to the same place, as various conversations between male patrons suddenly trailed off.

“Hey!” she said. “Vanilla iced latte?”
 
“Uh…vanilla iced latte.”

“Large vanilla iced latte?”

“L…l…large. Vanilla iced latte.”

“Okay! Thank you!” she said, exasperatedly straightening back to her full, towering height. The top still prominently displayed a good five inches of cleavage. “That’ll be three sixty-five.” 

The young man, not tearing his eyes away from Caitlin, fumbled for his wallet before dropping a five dollar bill and a handful of change onto the counter. She leaned back over to count the change and the young man stared unabashedly at the cleavage hanging in front of him that could likely swallow his head whole . 

“This is five forty-seven. Did you want to give me more change or what?” 

“Y…y…youcankeepitthanks.”
 
Caitlin made an odd sideways glance at him and completed the transaction, dropping a handful of change into the overflowing tip jar. She sighed loudly as she set to work making the drink. Craig could only stare at her profile as she bent down again to retrieve the milk. He felt himself get light-headed as she bent down to retrieve the milk from the small fridge, as hips wider than his body framed her succulent posterior. To top it off, as she prepared the espresso shot he realized that she appeared more than big enough to lift the entire espresso machine and drop it on him, if she so pleased. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” she said flatly, forcing small talk. 

“Uh…I’ve never been here before.”

“Huh. What brings you out here?”

“It was recommended.” 

She eyed him suspiciously, giving him a slight smile. “Recommended, huh?” she replied. The subtle grin surprised him and he found himself losing his bearings. 

“Sure. I was, yeah.” 

“What?”

“Um. Yeah.”

“You sure you can handle an espresso?” Craig didn’t reply and Ivey grinned from behind the magazine across the room.

“I’ll…take it. Uh huh.”

“Well I hope so. You paid for it.” With that, Caitlin easily reached over the espresso machine and handed over the drink. “Here ya’ go.” Craig reached forward with a shaky hand and took the drink from her. Caitlin held on to it for a couple moments longer, making sure that he’d actually grasped it.

“Come back in sometime.”

“I…okay…yeah.” The young man awkwardly shuffled out of the coffee shop, his eyes remained glued to the girl behind the counter. The door shut and Caitlin shook her head and rolled her eyes. Ivey set down her magazine and headed over to the counter.

“Hey, sweetie.” Ivey chirped.

“Yeah?”

“Not bad for your first week on the job.”

Caitlin eyed the tip jar, and glanced quickly down at the obscene amount of cleavage she had on display. She still was getting used to her own body, and today was the first day she hadn’t knocked something over in the first hour of her workday. The place simply wasn’t designed for 7’7” baristas, but she was making do. “Yeah, I’m getting used to it.”

“You know,” Ivey said. “I’d like to see more of your work up here. I’m not sure how much more of Nicole’s work everyone can stomach.”

Nicole hit her thumb with the hammer and cursed none-too-subtly, which momentarily took the focus of the room off of Caitlin. Caitlin laughed quietly and checked out the smattering of her own works, including the appropriately titled “Unexpected Surprises,” which earned her an “A” in advanced painting and a first runner-up in regional contest (Nicole won first prize with “Cannabis Coitus”). “Maybe,” she said. “I’ve been on a creative streak lately.”

Ivey grinned slightly. “So have you grown into yourself?”

Caitlin blew an errant strand of long black hair out of her eyes. “I certainly hope so.”

“Do you? Really?”

Caitlin paused, looking around at the gathering of customers pretending not to be absolutely infatuated with her and then at Ivey who did absolutely nothing to hide the fact. She then looked down at her chest and up at the ceiling, grinning naughtily.

“I dunno,” she shrugged. “I am, after all, full of surprises…”