A decade ago I worked at this café alongside some friends. One day a friend got fired over the boss' claim that she had thrown out a perfectly fine carton of milk (lol). I filled in like a madman and worked overtime for the following month because I was saving up, even though I was halfway out of that shithole of a workplace. So, one day, he called me and wanted me to fill in on a sick colleague, but I had plans so I refused. He got angry that I wouldn't help him in this pickle, so I told him he was a two-faced piece of shit (candy for the costumers, mouth-offs for the young employees, non-stop), and by the way, I quit.
Now, a decade later, I was waiting for a date outside his new place, that I didn't know of. It was a sunny afternoon and he randomly came out to chitchat. I immediately recognised him, but noticed he didn't. I told him I used to work for him, thinking he'd remember, but he went “ohhhh is that right?! You used to work for me? How funny!”, all smiles and laughter. He then offered me a coffee on the house.
It wasn't so much about the coffee, but there was just something hilarious and poetically summarising about him not even remembering that I called him out for being a piece of shit, then to continue to offer me a coffee. Fair to say I don't envy his hollow life.