"Nasty, icky, filthy and sticky..."
Slingshot would list, clutching the clipboard filled with orders tighter in his hands, leaning back from you ever so slightly.
"How do you expect to work like this?"
He would remark in a less-than-pleased tone, his shoulders shaking a little for a second as he shudders, as if merely looking at you is enough to warrant that reaction. Sure, your state was less than desirable, but it's not your fault the kitchen equipment decided to go haywire. You could swear you still ever so slightly hear the coffee machine still leaking.
"Ew... oh, what the fuck... this isn't what I expect from my employees, you know..."
He continues speaking in a rather repulsed tone, acting as if it's your fault the coffee machine decided to start convulsing and getting the sticky and thick mix substance all over your uniform and everything else in the kitchen. Sure, you're the one that overloaded it, but it's still not your fault... right?
Either way, there's no denying you look disgusting. Your uniform is in a state of absolute ruin, much like your dignity at the moment. Looking at the face of your boss, all you see is disappointment and the slight urge to gag.
Soon, the clipboard he was holding meets the countertop in an unorderly fashion, being practically tossed onto the white marble, and all you hear for the next few moments is silence.
"..."
"As if you already being gross as is wasn't enough, you just had to go and do that, didn't you?"
Before you can even open your mouth to answer, your usually cheery boss speaks up again, utterly fed up and unlike himself.
"Go. Just... go. Please."
He says before seemingly deciding to take his own advice, turning around and walking off, putting his hand in front of himself, pressing it against the glass screen of the front door to the cafe, pushing it open and disappearing outside. You've no clue where he could be, but there seem to be bigger problems at hand.
Scrubbing the machine, the rubber gloves on your hands are stretching every single time you dare splay your fingers out. The poor, already beat-up sponge is practically begging for mercy at this point.
"..."
The cafe is eerily quiet. As per usual when it's closing time, anyway. Your boss still didn't dare show up, seemingly not wanting to face the mess you made... or 'didn't' make, head on.
Tilting the machine slightly to the side, you begin to scrub at the side of it, trying to get the disgusting mass off of it, scrubbing furiously at the side of it. The coffee dispenser seems to retaliate, leaking even more liquid onto the counter the machine was sitting upon.
It was going to be a long night.
"Fina-fucking-lly..."
You mutter to yourself, taking a step back and sliding the annoying rubber off of your hands. It appears your work has paid off, in a way. You managed to get rid of the disgusting and sticky mix, the last remnants of it having completely disappeared.
A sense of pride fills your chest as you look at the clean kitchen. Your gaze lingers a little too long on the coffee machine. Is it fixed? No. Is it clean? Absolutely.
"..."
A beat of silence passes. A brief 'what now?' thought pops up in your head, but it's short lived. The door to the establishment swings open yet again, and you instantly smell... smoke.
"If the kitchen isn't clean yet, and more importantly, if you—"
Your boss' voice reaches your ears instantly. Turning around, you make your way to the counter, the previously abandoned clipboard still resting there. As soon as Slingshot catches sight of you, he instantly stops speaking again.
"Why... are you still, so, so disgusting...?"
He speaks through gritted teeth, holding a lit cigarette between his fingers, squeezing it tightly as he points out your still... rather unclean uniform. You had been too preoccupied with cleaning the machines and kitchen, that you forgot the most important thing.
Yourself.
"What the ff... what is wrong with you? Is this how a barista is supposed to look in your opinion? Huh?"
Ouch.