By Megan Dang
LOS ANGELES, CA — This just in: the swoony Dulce barista who complimented your outfit the other day doesn’t want you to smash him, but he does want you to smash that 20% tip button on the ordering iPad.
Last week you waited in the Dulce line for five and a half hours before you were finally welcomed into the store by bass-boosted Aphex Twin music and an artisanal donut display that nobody has ever touched. The barista, Ryan, beckoned you forward with his sultry gaze and moaned your name sensually in confirmation after you dropped $8 on your oat milk blueberry matcha.
When it came time to pay, Ryan tilted the touch screen toward you, but not before draping a leg over the counter and pursing his lips. “By the way, I don’t say this to a lot of people,” he said, batting his eyes as he admired your Depop and Urban Outfitter couture. “But I totally love your outfit.”
He then directed your attention towards the screen, masterfully entrapping you by adding, “If you’re feeling generous!” As opposed to what, feeling greedy and covetous? Now you’d look like a total asswipe if you didn’t give him an extra $6.57 after he stripped that down for you.
When later asked about this encounter, Ryan clarified, “I say that to everyone. I totally hated that outfit. But my 100 gecs tickets won’t pay for themselves.” He proudly showed off the contents of his Carhartt wallet, which was full of loose one-dollar bills, some of which were tucked into his underwear. Sex work is work, and nobody embodies that better than the good employees of Dulce.