Did he see what happened?
“Whose fault was it, then?” Hoity-toity suit lady who wouldn’t deign to allow last year’s fashion to touch her body, flattens her lips.
Kaz points at Mr. Asswipe. “His.”
Oh. My savior.
“How dare you accuse me?”
There’s a holier than thou tone to Mr. Asswipe’s voice.
What a fucking actor.
“I’m not the one who bumped into that other waitress,” he says. “That’s what happens when you’re not paying attention, unless this has to do with the fact our waitress is uncoordinated… or plain incompetent.”
Screw you, jackass.
Kaz glowers at Mr. Asswipe, his jaw tight, and his mouth set into a harsh line.
Mr. Asswipe stares up at Kaz, defiance flashing from his beady eyes.
The energy Kaz gives off could incinerate all of New York.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Mr. Asswipe says. “I’m simply telling the truth.”
Kaz’s mouth curves into a chilling smile that makes me shiver. “Funny how your truth is bent out of shape.”
“Are you accusing me of something I didn’t do?”
“You put your filthy hands on her without her consent.”
“That’s not what happened. You’re talking bullshit.”
“Why don’t we step outside so you can tell me exactly how things went down?” Kaz speaks in a low voice that drips with frost.
“Why? Because a big Neanderthal like yourself can only speak with his fists?”
Kaz takes a menacing step towards Mr. Asswipe.
The coward scoots back, banging into the table causing the drinks in the glasses to sway, right before his hand lands in his plate of food.
“Shit.” Mr. Asswipe snatches a napkin and wipes his hand, his furious gaze on me.
That’s what you get for poking the bear.
“Let me through,” a man says.
The crowd of patrons that’s assembled around us parts and my toxic boss comes charging our way.
As if the situation couldn’t get worse.
He comes to a halt in front of us and places his hands at his waist.
He taps his foot as he assesses the situation.
“Why there is tomato sauce everywhere?Merde! Quel gâchis.”
Translation:Fuck. What a mess.
