Hey Mr , can you hold the door for me, my hands are tied?
I could hear her voice from afar. She was a fat Spanish woman on her cell phone in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. She had to be at least 30 yds away from me. I heard her carry on her conversation assuming I’d hold the door open for her.
She was wrong. I heard her yell at me as the door was closing. Too bad her fat legs didn’t travel as fast as her loud voice, she barely narrowed the gap. It was one of those see threw doors which was now shut. I mentioned she was loud right? Even with the door closed, I could hear what sounded like Spanish profanities directed towards me. She can’t put her phone down for a second, and it makes me the bad guy. I had never seen this lady before, but I worked at a big office with multiple stories. Not far from the door I refused to hold were elevators. I pressed the going up button and was waiting for there use. After what felt like an eternity Ms Empanada finally made her way into the building. Lucky for me the elevator began to open, so I walked into it as quickly as possible and pressed floor 2 and then the close door button. Ms Empanada yelled in English, “Hold The Door Mother Fucker”, as I continued to press the close door button. She was getting relatively close but the door was starting to crack shut, so she took the lid off of her coffee and threw it in my face as the door came to a close.
Fuck! I screamed. The coffee was so hot and my face felt burnt. As soon as the door shut I was filled with rage. By the time I got to the 2nd floor, I stayed in the elevator, hit the close door button and went back to floor 1. When the door opened I could see her slurping splash coffee debris from her hands. It was like looking at an ugly vacuum. I got out of the elevator and punched the lady in the face. She fell to the ground yelling in agony ‘oh papi’. After that I kicked her in the stomach. She threw up what looked like a whole taco.