“Just go home,” the guy behind the counter at the donut shop says brusquely into his phone, before repeatedly stabbing the screen to hang up. “What do you want?”
Katie and I repeat our order, then repeat it again because he’s staring at his phone again without doing anything, and as he finally gets our donuts I whisper to Katie, “Seems like he’s going through some stuff.”
“Have a better one,” I say on the way out, but he’s staring angrily at his phone, and doesn’t hear me.
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