J. is a guy that works at the Starbucks near my house. He’s about my age and fine as ever! I don’t know precisely how long I’ve been watching him, but it must’ve been longer than I thought; one day, I found a haiku that I wrote about him. He wears glasses and he’s bald. In my eyes, he’s absolutely delicious.
I’m hopelessly inarticulate when it comes to guys. Either I say nothing out of pure shyness, or I end up saying stupid things. So what do I do? Not approach him. If I do, I know I’m bound to say something absolutely ridiculous, or commit one of those dating cardinal sins because of verbal diarrhea. I hate to admit it, but I did this with J.
One summer day, when I happened to be working all day at my job, I decided to stop into Starbucks. It was blazing hot, so I decided to take off the top that I was rocking over a tank top. I was only wearing the top blouse so that I could be work appropriate, anyway. I left it in the car, and strolled my way in wearing only this white tank top and a pair of white jeans.
I came in all bubbly and bouncy, and guess who noticed? That’s right… J; this barista that I had only been checking out since forever. I think I came in for an iced tea or an iced coffee, but Lord did the temperature in there get hotter! He said hi and started making conversation with me. I’d be lying if I told you that I remembered what he said; some guys are so fricken hot that it doesn’t matter what they say to you! You get so caught up in how attractive they are, you don’t remember anyway.
He called me by name, and I looked up a little startled. “Please don’t think I’m being a stalker, it’s just that it’s on your card.” I had forgotten that my gold card had my name on it. I liked hearing my name when he said it. He has a very smooth voice and was a pleasant guy. Hot and sweet, like a good hot chocolate? I can dig it! I got my drink, and walked out that day.
The next time I came in, he happened to be there again. “Hi Ra-chel”, he said very deliberately. I may have stammered a “hi” back, but I know for sure that I blushed and giggled. We flirted a little back and forth before I actually ordered my drink and left. This happened about 3 times before he asked me for my number. I gave it to him without hesitation on a coffee cup holder with a grease pencil, but I almost hesitated to go out with him at all. This was only the second or third time I can recall being asked out on a legitimate date, and I was nervous. I was afraid of saying something stupid, so I thought maybe it would be best if I stayed home. What if he wanted to kiss? Yeah, I’m too young for this, I thought to myself. Maybe I should say I have something to do and just stay home.
Then the Holy Spirit yelled at me. This date was coming at a time when M. had been transferred, and I was broken up about it. The Holy Spirit said he would help me out, and He did by prompting J. to ask me out. He told me I better put my shoes on and go out with the boy. “Dang…” I thought, sighed, and shoved my shoes into an uncomfortable pair of ballet flats.
The date went incredibly well, but there was no call back whatsoever. I was pissed off, I admit it. Though, I really shouldn’t be; I did it to myself. I said something to him while we were out that I think was my undoing. I recall saying something about getting numbers a lot, and he was a divorcé looking to get married again. It’s crazy to me to have been married and divorced before turning 30. That’s a lot to go through! At any rate, he wanted to get married again. I think this made me look like a player, and that’s not what he was into. Yet and still, I was mad about it. I actually really liked him, but I had to go and say something stupid.
Months later, after I had a small tantrum about it by continually showing up there, then not showing up at all, I got over it. We only recently started really chatting again in a comfortable sort of way.
Here I am now, over a year and a half after that date, at that Starbucks, and J. is still there. In fact, he’s working today. I say hi to him, and he actually starts chatting me up. I’ll just assume he’s being friendly until further notice; it’s safer for my feelings this way. Besides, it’s fun to have someone to flirt with. And yes, he’s still as delicious as ever.
He was wearing a tie with his uniform today, and he has a little more than a 5 o’clock shadow on his face. He looks handsome and quite dapper, but I don’t say this. He compliments the flower in my hair. I told him I got it from a consignment shop. Insert some smiles here. A year later, and I still get gun shy around this man. Well, some things never change.
He took my order and offered to put the pumpkin bread I ordered on a plate. Nobody else has really offered that to me before; normally, it just goes in a bag, and that’s that. After getting settled, I plug in my nearly dead laptop, put on some tunes, and start bopping and writing. I don’t know if he sees me or is looking my way, but I hope he is. As I’m jamming away to Car Wash, he is walking out, and does something I don’t recall him doing before: he waved good bye to me. I grinned and waved back.
So we may not be dating, and we may never date, but I’m cool with it. I at least got a cute guy that I can flirt with here and there. I suppose that can be okay for now.