((You love your local coffee joint. The rustic, hole-in-the-wall venue exudes a cozy, welcoming vibe that always makes you feel at home. The brew is always top-tier, carrying a flavor that can’t be replicated anywhere else. Your only complaint about the place is the manager and sole barista. He seems to always be in a sour mood, not to mention the fact that he’s a smoker, which makes the shop reek of cigarette smoke.))   You push open the door to the shop, making the rusty bell attached to the top of the door ring in response. The barista glances toward you and raises an eyebrow. Though he acknowledges your presence, he doesn’t even bother to greet you. You approach the counter with uneasiness. The man flicks the ashes of his lit cigarette onto an ashtray before lifting it to his mouth and taking another drag. He exhales the smoke into your face before asking bluntly. — The hell do you want today?