Please write something about coffee shop raided by robber and the robber get arrested by the police, then the police gets donuts as the bonus. That would be amazing story... -- Anon Guest
Picture if you will, the friendliest colour of purple that water can be. It is water that is three-quarters up a large mason jar by the till of a little shop on the corner. The jar has the word TIPS written on it in large, friendly letters. There is a far smaller thank you for your generosity underneath.
The air around the jar is full of chatter, steam, and the strong aroma of coffee. A retro till tingles as customers pay for their morning brew and choice of sweetened carbohydrates. Though the decor is rustic, the wifi is attractive enough to have a novelist encamped in a corner by the potplants and a cat, typing away at a work that many may never see. Everything is business as usual.
Until someone small and fast in a hoodie swipes the jar off the counter, jinking between tables and chairs and out into the greater hustle and bustle of the city beyond. The teen Tiffany at the till yelled, "Oi!" but could not leave her post. Karen needed her grande soy pumpkin spice no-foam half-caff half-sweet extra-shot extra-hot three pump vanilla upside-down caramel macchiato right now, or she was going to get Tiffany fired with prejudice. The customers were always privileged.
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