Enjoy a Vienna morning

Leaving the house to escape the awkward conversation with Claire, you only realise you forgot left your coffee on the kitchen table. No matter, you think to yourself. You can just go and drink one in one of Vienna's many beautiful cafès. A few blocks from your apartment, you find a local bakery chain, go inside, and order a coffee and breakfast in broken german. You take a seat and enjoy your meal, when you suddenly hear a loud, female voice: "I want one of those breadrolls with cinamon, and a chamomille tea. Chamomille. Tea." The barista, a young man, surely from the balkan, clearly has no idea what the young american in front of him is talking about. And what a young american it is. She has curly, long blond locks, and wonferfull behind, wearing a short sundress, riding up her thighs. She turns around, her beautifull face only catches half as much of your attention as her marvelous tits do. "Do you know what i am saying, like, can you hear me? Or do you just not speak english?" This young woman may be hot, but her personality seems ditzy, and somewhat arrogant. Who is she, to come into another country, and be outraged when others don't speak her language.