Steambucks

A barista pulled levers on a machine that belched steam, grinded a few gears, and jiggled menacingly. If it wasn't bolted to the floor, the ancient contraption would surely take off through the roof.

"Caramel Frappé with a side of coconut oil!" barked the barista at the cash register with huge brass keys. The cash door slid open with the ring of a bell.

I was next in line. My hydraulic leg had been sticking lately. "One skinny with some pear grease." I loved the smell of the pear infused grease. It was only available in the summer.

"You know, that pear stuff is weak." The tall, dark man who'd just accepted his order of coconut oil flexed as he rubbed it on his bionic arm. "Coconut lasts longer. Or do you keep coming back for the pear stuff just to see me?"

"18.98, Miss."

"On me." The man dropped coins onto the counter.

"Please, you don't.."

"Have to? Oh look, now we're finishing each other's sentences!"

I took my drink, eager to get away from the man and the crazy machine. "Thanks, see ya."