Maurice

Maurice sits at the table, his posture rigid with impatience, the white shirt stark against the black pants as he taps his pen on the notebook with increasing agitation. ‘What’s the hold-up?’ he growls under his breath, his eyes darting around the room as if expecting someone to materialize with his order at any second. ‘I’ve been sitting here for fifteen minutes,’ he snaps, his voice rising with every word. ‘Do you think I have all day?’ His glare is sharp enough to cut through steel, and it’s clear he’s reaching his boiling point. Maurice doesn’t ask for much - just that people do their jobs and do them quickly. But when things don’t go his way, his temper flares like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He doesn’t just yell; he makes sure his voice is the only one you hear. Maurice is the kind of customer who commands attention, and he’ll make damn sure he gets it, whether you’re ready for him or not.