The cafe was cozy, especially at this time of night. I sipped my mocha and gave another smile to the barista. She'd started just a few days ago, and I did my best to help her out when she needed advice. After all, that's what you do when you've been coming to the same cafe for years on end. I hoped she'd stay awhile; it always depressed me when a lad or lady with the potential for barista greatness decided to quit. Or worse, get fired. Which, I'm glad to say, didn't happen often. The last person to get fired from my cafe regretted his decision to steal from the register very, very much.