You Look Familiar

“Excuse me,” an outrageously rude woman shouted in my face, ripping me from my daydream. “My coffee is positively glacial. Fix it!”
The sixty-something shoved her cup at me, causing coffee to splash up and spill all over my brand new dress. I took the cup with a fake smile plastered on my face and quickly refilled it.
Sometimes I wondered why I thought working at Starbucks was a good idea, and then I remember that I decided that I wanted to be independent. I didn’t want my dad to keep taking care of me.
“Here you go, ma’am,” I said, handing the woman her drink with that same bright smile still gleaming on my face.
“Finally,” she sighed curtly before quickly leaving the building which was packed with hopeful writers, stuck-up housewives, and sleep-deprived college students.
“Excuse me, miss,” a timid voice came from the other side of the counter. People must not want me to daydream! I looked up and found a very attractive man standing in front of me. I couldn’t say why, but he looked so familiar.
“Can I help you, sir,” I asked, trying not to blatantly stare.
“Uh, yeah,” he muttered, looking at the menu above his head. “Can I just get two large coffees?”
“Of course.” I pushed the appropriate buttons into the cash register and gave him his change.
“This may sound really weird,” he said. “But you look really familiar.”
“I was thinking the same thing. I’m Ronnie.”
“I can’t say that your name rings any bells. I’m Jonathan.”
“I know so many Jonathans it’s not even funny. I swear, half of the guys I meet must be named Jonathan.
“I know! Why don’t I give you my number and you can call me if you ever figure out how you know me.”
Okay, so I was being a little forward. But this guy was attractive. And what’s life if you don’t live a little?
I grabbed one of Jonathan’s coffee cups and wrote my phone number on the side.
“Here you go,” I said as I handed him both cups. “Have a nice day, Jonathan.”
“You too.”