Six>>>Starbucks Junkie
I am sitting outside of the Starbucks on a metal chair in their outdoor seating area feeling pretty good. I’ve got a frozen coffee in my hand and a magazine in front of me. The Oklahoma, October wind feels wonderful and the distant chatter of the people on the street is peaceful.
Then I see her, standing in front of me with her own frozen coffee and newspaper in hand.
“Do you mind if I sit down? There aren’t any tables left and I see you aren’t using this chair.”
I knew if I waited long enough it would be worth it. This is exactly why there was no pretty girl in my pottery class and every waitress I’ve had lately has been twice my age. Because she was waiting for me here at the Starbucks. And she, the most beautiful girl I think I’ve ever seen, is asking to sit with me.
“Sure, have a seat.” I tell her coolly. She sits down and promptly attacks her newspaper. She must flip through the entire thing till she finally finds the section she wants. By this time the paper looks tattered and awkward- which only makes me smile as I go back to my own magazine.
I steal the occasion glance at her, feeling pretty suave since she doesn’t see me and slurp my coffee. She looks at me as I try to suck the last bit of it out of the bottom. My cue?
“So what’s your name?”
“Estelle.”
What?! This beautiful girl has the same name as my ex girl friend! That’s not even a popular name! Oh that isn’t fair. Forget it…
“I’m Taylor,” I mutter.
She smiles and nods and I feel like I’m going to fall out of my chair. Oh she is gorgeous. Oh fuck it. Who cares if her name is Estelle. I don’t care if her name is Estelle Faye Howard, my ex’s name. She is way too beautiful to care.
“Are you a Starbucks junkie like myself?” I ask her.
She smiles again. Catch me. “You might say that. Actually, I’ve been trying to limit my intake to two caffeinated beverages a day. But we’ll see.”
I grin and set my drink down, closing my magazine to demonstrate I want to talk.
“Yeah. My family says if I could live on only Starbucks, I would.”
She doesn’t say anything. Just smiles and looks back at her magazine.
“So do you work around here? What brings you to this part of town?” If you couldn’t tell, I’m struggling to keep a conversation going with Miss America in front of me.
“Yeah I work down the street at the bank.” She nods in the direction. “And yourself?”
There you go! She’s learning. When I ask you a question, you answer and flip it back to me. I knew there were brains behind her beauty. I consider telling her about my pottery, I mean, ceramics class. But she looks like she’d be into the football player type and football players definitely do not do ceramics.
I hold my hand over my forehead to shield my eyes from the sun and squint as her.
“A friend of mine lives down the street. I was just on my way over to see him but got a craving when I saw the Starbucks sign.”
She smiles. Does she have to keep doing that? If I were standing when she first sat down, I’d be on the floor by now.
She closes her newspaper. And the conversation picks up.
“Well I didn’t mean all girls are dramatic and too impulsive! I’m just saying…”
“You’re generalizing women is what you’re doing.”
I sigh and look at the beautiful girl in front of me. I make one resentful comment about my ex-girlfriend and she jumps down my throat. This was going well at first too.
“I’m just saying. All the girls I’ve had experience with, including my female cousins and sisters, are just very dramatic. They don’t think before they do things like us guys do. They just do them so impulsively. And sometimes its dumb things that could have been prevented-”
“What if they thought things through like men do?”
“I suppose.”
“Tyler-”
“What? Taylor!”
“Taylor, you are the epitome of what I hate about men.”
“What?!”
She stands up, throws her bag over her should and puts her sunglasses on.
“Look who’s generalizing now!”
She looks at her watch and says, “The discussion is over. I need to get back to work. Have a nice day Taylor.”
I frown as I watch her walk away- in complete shock. It was all going fine! And she just walks away from me, humiliating me in front of everyone else sitting outside the Starbucks. God knows they all heard the entire argument. And before I even know what I’m saying, I’m yelling down the sidewalk to her.
“That’s a prime example of the deranged impulsiveness of women!”
Okay. Now I’m just humiliating myself in front of everyone else sitting outside the Starbucks. I sit back down on my chair and sigh noisily before getting up and heading to my ceramics class.