[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/4CJP41s.jpg[/img][/center]

Samantha hadn't noticed the Mr. Waiter still standing there and when he spoke up about them going outside to fight, the punk girl struggled to hold back a laugh. She lazily turned her eyes to the very stressed, very concerned worker and said, "[color=a0410d]Hah! No, I don't think that'll happen. Not for my sake, for his.[/color]" As she said 'for his' her lazy eyes turned aggressively back to the intruder. What her eyes fell upon made her further filled with outrage. The man was still there sitting with his shit-eating grin. It was quite clear to her now that she wasn't just overreacting. This guy was obviously just playing with her, getting amused off of her irritation. 

It was at this point he diagnosed the problem as her not having coffee and her being out of her comfort zone and... sure! That might have been it, but she wasn't happy with him psychoanalyzing her. In addition, he wanted her name, as if that was going to solve everything. What was he gonna do, use it to look her up in some yellow pages or whatever? No way. As far as she was concerned, to him her name was first, middle, and last: Go Fuck Yourself. Before the woman came over she shot, "[color=a0410d]No, I'm 'mean' because I wanted a nice, peaceful breakfast alone and you are ruining it for your own sick entertainment.[/color]" She quickly added, "[color=a0410d]You're an asshole.[/color]" 

Now a young woman came up with an air of professionalism and authority. Herself not really one to get along with authority, shrunk a little, afraid she was about to be punished or chastised. Instead, it seemed this woman was on her side. This actually earned a satisfied smile. Someone was actually coming to help her, an ally. However, that didn't make her any less comfortable about other people stepping in on her part. In fact, with the amount of social interaction she was getting, with the people who were gathering and looking over at her table, Sam was starting to feel very claustrophobic. She might put on the aura of being aggressive and dangerous, but her heart beat and breathing would have revealed that she was actually dealing with a great deal of anxiety right now.

She darted her eyes thankfully at the woman who had come to her aid and realized that she had a decision to make. Have him kicked out or have him stay. Now, she was so angry she wanted him to be kicked out, but she didn't want it to be done by some kind of authority. It would feel as if she had lost in some way if that happened. She thought of it and realized, with a sinking feeling, that she wouldn't really win this in a way that made her satisfied. In fact, at this point she was getting very fed up. She realized with great displeasure what she was going to have to do, and in a way it was still losing.

Samantha slammed her hands on the table as she stood up, "[color=a0410d]You know, fuck it! I'm leaving. You win, asshole![/color]" She paused, and began to glide her hands across the table as if it was some precious item. "[color=a0410d]This table that you want so badly, you can have it! It's [i]all[/i] yours.[/color]" She picked up the dainty plate in one hand and the coffee cup in another hand. As she began to scoot out of the booth the mug of coffee in her hand, if anyone was paying attention, began to steam furiously and even produce a few boiling bubbles. Sam didn't notice as she said her final words as she departed. "[color=a0410d]And don't you dare fucking follow me or I [i]will[/i] have you kicked out.[/color]" With this she turned flustered to the other woman who had offered to help, "[color=a0410d]Thank you, really, but there's no winning with this guy.[/color]" With that she finally stomped over to an open booth at the complete opposite side of the room in the corner of the restaurant, bringing the heat with her. With a huff she sat down in a way that she was facing away from the guy. Sam didn't want to have to look at him as she ate. It would make her food too unappetizing. 

After a moment she finally set her things down. It was when she did this that she realized that the mug she had been holding in her hand was boiling. "[color=a0410d]Shit![/color]" She exclaimed under her breath before jerking back her hand from the boiling coffee mug. She watched in shock as the mug began melting a ring into the table. She quickly worked to examine her hands for burns, but she found none. Sam just looked utterly shocked at the coffee as the boil began to go down.

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