The manager rushed over, apologizing profusely before pulling me away. "What the hell did you do? Did you stick your fingers in the cup or something? I've worked here for years and I've never heard a customer say a server was disgusting!"
He was so furious that he could barely speak. I took off my name tag. "I'm sorry, Manager. This was my fault. You can fire me, I won't object."
"Fire you? What good would that do? This was Mr. Hawthorne's first time bringing his wife to a public event and you just had to ruin it! Do you know how lucky we are that no reporters were around? Otherwise, I'd be out of a job too!"
All I could do was apologize. By the time my manager was done scolding me, my shirt was soaked with coffee.
"Clean this up and go help outside the venue. If we weren't short on staff, I would've kicked you out already!"
I went to the restroom to clean myself up when a woman walked in. I instinctively looked away, avoiding eye contact.