Yay, another story. This one’s about Starbucks.

After my previous story,(Scary Myspace Story) I moved to California, and a right under my apartment, we have a starbucks. This Starbucks in particular is pretty cool because there are apartments above it. And because I love starbucks, I bought the apartment above it, and lucky me, they were hiring, so I applied for a job interview. Luckily, I passed, and was able to get the job. The shift was usual. A day shift, in fact, from 9:00-12:00 A.M., so I got the time when most people went to Starbucks. Everything was usual, nothing to expect. We always DID have this one customer, though. He used to wear a hoodie, and never liked to show his face, unless he was ordering.

He was a guy in his mid 20’s. He had many pimples on his face, and supposedly, he was French, and didn’t speak very good English. Every time he ordered, I never understood what he was saying. I’m not trying to be offensive to French people out there, It’s just hard sometimes. One day, I had the Night shift, and around 11:30 P.M., the store was supposed to close. It was just me and one of my friends, let’s call her Jill. When I was about to lock the door, I saw the same man from my day shifts walk in. Now, I’ve talked to the guy before, and he says he lives by the forest. It was weird, ’cause barely any houses were by the forest, but It was fine by me. When the guy walked in, he brushed past me, and started ordering something. Jill helped him out. He said goodnight and left on his way. But something told me I had to follow him for a while, so I did.