Jo awoke with a smile on her face because today was the day she’d been waiting for all week. She worked the previous eight in a row at the restaurant, so she promised a day to herself. She stayed in bed, enjoying the plush covers in which she cocooned, and listened as the raindrops tapped on her windows while she simultaneously ignored the more unpleasant sounds of the city. Mother Nature must have glimpsed Jo’s plan and provided accordingly.

Her mental agenda included picking up coffee from the shop downstairs, finally testing out her new facial steamer, ordering her favorite Indian takeout, and finishing the night with a movie.

She quickly dressed in her finest rainy day attire - hoodie and leggings, of course, a vintage style making a comeback for obvious reasons - and placed her coffee order on her phone. She left her apartment, unlocking the door with her fingerprint, and made her way towards the coffee shop. She entered, scanning her fingerprint this time to unlock the door, and walked up to the woman behind the counter.

“Hi, I’m picking up an order for Jo - cappuccino and a scone.”

“I know your order,” she replied, “you’re the only one who orders those old-school drinks. We had to buy an antique maker and fix it up just to keep your business.”

Jo smiled coyly, “well I supposed if someone is dumb enough to pay this outrageous price every day for quality coffee, you should take advantage.”

She replied with a smile and leaned forward; Jo followed to complete the kiss. Jo glanced at the woman’s nametag - hovered over her heart and followed where she went without ever touching, and it read ‘Kit.’ She and Jo jointly owned and operated this very cafe - the Antique Star, an ode to the now-defunct coffee legend Starbucks - for the last several years. Kit proposed to Jo with the antique cappuccino maker, and as a wedding gift, Kit bought her bride the restaurant across the street. These were Jo’s babies.

Kit’s smile radiated suspiciously, “We’re training the new girl at the restaurant tonight. Don’t forget to be there to meet her at 3pm.”

The restaurant had only been open a year, but Jo knew she’d invest her soul into it. Of all the changes and technological advances made in the 22nd century, culinary institutes still followed the same tried and true practices passed down generations, and Jo loved anything from the past.

Jo’s smile faded, “what new girl? I didn’t hire any new girl. Who hired a new girl?” Jo looked around the coffee shop as if it’s patrons were guilty. “I’ve just trained three new people this week! Did you do this? All I wanted was a lazy Sunday, but now I have to kill you - why are you laughing?”

Kit couldn’t keep it together anymore, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Oh you should have seen your face. Thank you for that, it was just what I needed this morning.”

Jo bit into her scone - soft, buttery, and blueberry - her face stuck somewhere between a scowl and smirk.

“Kill me, huh?” Kit continued, “seems a bit extreme, no?”

“You would have deserved it,” Jo replied lightheartedly through a mouthful of scone.

“Enjoy your day, my love.”

“I will. But I won’t be saving you any samosas tonight,” Jo lied. She left the coffee shop, once again unlocking the door with her fingerprint, and set off to enjoy the rest of her day.