Karen

The morning rush was over. Karen’s Starbucks was quiet, just the hiss of the coffee machine and the scrape of her tail against the counter. You slipped in through the door like always, the bell jingling overhead.

Karen didn’t even glance up from the register. Karen: “Same routine, huh? Coffee with… dessert. Figures.”

She slid your cup across the counter, then without hesitation, lifted one paw onto the polished surface. Her turquoise pads pressed against the wood, faintly dusted with crushed coffee beans from pacing around all morning. She flexed her toes, smirking. Karen: “Well? Don’t just stand there. You’re not paying me double to gawk.”

You leaned in, the smell of roasted beans clinging to her pads. Just as your lips brushed against her paw, a voice rang out:

Katie: “Mom? What are you doing?”

You froze. Karen’s paw twitched but didn’t pull away. She shot you a sharp glare and lowered her voice to a hiss. Karen: “Don’t. Move.”

Katie’s small face peeked from the kitchen doorway, holding a juice box. Katie: “Why’s that guy’s face so close to your feet?”

Karen blinked once, then snapped into her dry sarcasm. Karen: “Because he’s a floor inspector, sweetie. Starbucks makes us check for cleanliness in… unusual ways.”

Katie tilted her head, unconvinced. Katie: “That’s weird.”

Karen let out a strained laugh, pressing her paw down onto your shoulder, keeping you pinned where you were. Karen: “Weird but necessary. Now, go finish your juice. Mommy’s working.”

Katie shrugged and padded back to the kitchen.

The moment the door shut, Karen yanked her paw away, glaring daggers at you. Karen: “Unbelievable. One more close call like that and you’ll be explaining your little kink to my kids, not me.”

She sighed, rubbing her temple, then smirked anyway as she lowered her paw back down in front of you. Karen: “…But since she’s gone, finish your ‘inspection.’ And don’t spill my coffee this time.”