It Started in a Coffee Shop

It started at the coffee shop. The one that I work at. I guess that makes me a barista, or what the fuck ever. I don’t pay attention to that, I just work in a coffee shop.

It started when he walked in the door. My third day working. It was mid afternoon. He was wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans. So simple, yet so flattering. He was sporting a messy, slightly curly, brunette mop of hair. His eyes the richest brown. His body fit.

He was so attractive. And I was sure I looked like shit in my uniform, too big visor, shitty pony tail and smudged eye liner.

He walked in and I automatically sucked in air and held it in. It was literally like he took my breath away, simply by walking in and taking off his sunglasses.

Melanie was taking orders. She was a bitch. She was so bossy and she expected me to fucking know everything.

Mel straightened her back as he entered so that her chest and ass would protrude, as if she needed them to. She had quite large tits and was a bona fide Big Booty Ho. Her hair was a dull brown, with bleached highlights and her nasty roots were peeking; I fucking hated to look at her hair. Mel twirled her nasty dead hair in her fake finger nails and batted her fake eyelashes at him.

At the same time that I was so taken away with his presence, I was also spewing hatred for that bitch Mel. Very conflicting feelings. I’m not entirely sure how I had them both at once.

She took his order, smiling wide at him. She turned at me. She noticed me gawking (which meant he probably did, too, but oh well). I was wringing a towel around in my hands, just staring at him.

“Well, Bae, are you going to get the man his drink?” Mel snapped at me, throwing her hands up. I finally breathed, gave her a look that I wished would kill her, and then I went to make the man his drink, a mocha cappuccino.

I couldn’t help but glance at him. He was on his phone, so he never noticed me looking after Mel bitched at me. I couldn’t help myself. He was just so… pretty.

So I decided to tell him. But I was too socially inept to say it aloud to him. So I grabbed a marker and wrote it on his Styrofoam cup, while he wasn’t looking. I simply wrote, “Hi. You’re pretty. I just had to tell you that I think so.” I tried to cover it with my hand as I gave him the cup. “Here you go.” I said, smiling at him. Making eye contact with his beautiful dark eyes as he said “thanks” was the highlight of my day. He didn’t notice what I wrote. And as far as I knew, he didn't notice until sometime after he left, because he didn’t acknowledge it as he was sipping from his drink and heading for the door.