When it Rings Will You Answer?

One and One and One is Three

Hey There Coffee Girl

with 3 comments

This was the first time he’d ever agreed to a blind date. The very idea of them terrified him. He also always thought them to be for hopeless losers, unable to connect with another person on their own, but he’d been spending far too many nights alone with his Netflix queue and his friends had decided he was that hopeless person and that it was time. They gave him very little choice in the matter. The only control given to him was location. He spent a neurotic week going over the pros and cons of every possible place he could choose. An entire notebook filled with lists and charts and finally he landed on the coffee shop below his apartment. So it wasn’t very “out of the box” in thinking, but it had many advantages. For starters, in the event that the date becomes an unmitigated disaster, he had home court advantage and could escape quickly. Secondly, coffee to him signalled, “hey, nice to meet you, let’s have some small talk and decide if this is a date or not part way through.” He also found that the lighting in the coffee shop turned him from a six to an eight.

He looked to his watch and realized he had now been waiting in the shop for thirty-five minutes. He started to think that he was being stood up. Figures, he thought. He’d finally agreed to put himself out there after months of moping around. He had even shaved his sadness beard, (which, quite frankly, was glorious and he missed it already), and here he was being stood up. He decided to stay positive though. Maybe she was just stuck in transit. The TTC had been particularly awful as of late. Sure, that must be it. His mind was appeased. He grasped his mug and held it tightly to his chest. He had yet to take a sip, but he found the warmth comforting and the aroma took him to happier time. He became so entranced in a deep nostalgic thought that he did not notice that the barista had come over to his table.

“Waiting for someone?” She asked. He snapped back into the present with a sobering thud.

“That obvious? I’m sorry, have I gone beyond the allotted time and am now considered a loitering menace?” He replied.

“No! I mean, well, it’s just you haven’t taken your eyes off the door since you got here and you keep lifting your coffee to your lips but have yet to take a sip. I know our coffee smells great, but it also tastes amaaaaz…” she trailed off and looked over to the counter where a second barista still stood,  “…zing. I was talking to my friend behind the counter, and we sort of have a bet going.”

“Should I ask? I must look like a nervous wreck for you to be betting on me. I swear that I am not here for anything nefarious.”

With a lift of her eyebrow she replied,

“I would have believed you had you not used the word nefarious.” She smiled, “only a criminal mastermind would use such a word.”

“Blast!” He slammed the table.  “My bloated vocabulary betrays me once again.”

“I promise I won’t reveal your evil plans. I’m sort of an evil genius in training, myself.”

“You don’t say.”

“Oh, but I do. I won’t give anything away, but my plan involves highly trained chinchillas and possibly a young Eric Estrada if my time machine is ready. I’m still looking for my flux capacitor.” She tapped her nose to symbolize this information was meant to stay between the two of them. He nodded and tapped his nose as if to agree to her terms.

“So, what exactly is this bet you have going and how can I go about helping you win? More importantly, what would be my cut?” He realized he was suddenly smiling and might even be flirting with this girl. He thought it inappropriate under the circumstance and tried to subdue his smile by clearing his throat in a most painfully obvious gesture. She blushed as she too realized they were now officially flirting.

“You ARE an evil genius! Well, I suppose we could combine evil forces and rig this bad boy. I won’t lie to you, I am in desperate need of a win. My fluffy, eye patch wearing cat Gatsby is sick.”

“An eyepatch? PURE EVIL.” He shuddered. She laughed.

“Truthfully, he wears the eyepatch as a non-evil fashion statement. Both his eyes are fully functioning. I tell him it’s silly, but you know how stubborn a Gatsby can be.”

“The most stubborn. Yet they remain more likeable than those damn Buchanans.”

“RIGHT?!” She threw her hands in the air. “Off track. Okay, here it is, my friend and I, we were wagering on whether the person you are waiting for is a first date, or if the person is the love of your life and you are planning on spilling your guts with some sort of over the top, grand gesture.” She stepped back to survey his reaction to the two options she had just presented to him. “Considering you don’t appear to be hiding a cage full of doves beneath your shirt, I am thinking it is the former, and personally, I am hoping it is a first date that goes terribly wrong.”

He was taken aback by her bluntness, but then he remembered she WAS an evil genius in training after all.

“That evil training seems to be more advanced than you initially let on!” He jokingly scolded her.

“Oh! No! I didn’t mean it NEFARIOUSLY!” She had progressed beyond red, she had now entered maroon level blushing. “It’s just, after talking to you, I kind of hope you are single…and this is super awkward now.”

“Nah, that’s only if she shows up.”

“I honestly hadn’t even thought that far ahead. I am just going to go back behind the counter and possible drown myself in that stupid fake waterfall that constantly makes me have to pee.” She began to step slowly away.

“Wait, I haven’t answered your bet yet!”

“Well, hopefully I at least get something out of my humiliating shame.”

“I am here on a set up. My idiot friends swore up and down that they had found me the perfect girl. I told them I wasn’t done looking for myself, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“So, it’s a first date? I win!”

“Congratulations.”

“Ah-thank-ya.” She curtsied. “I have no idea why I just curtsied. I need to run away before I do my self-esteem any more damage.”

“If it helps, I am kind of hoping she doesn’t show.”

She took a slide step forward, “I’m listening.”

“Well, it’s just that, it is not very often you meet a fellow evil genius that also appreciates F. Scott Fitzgerald. Let alone one who is as friggin’ cute as you are.”

“I’m sorry. You lost me at ‘friggin’.”  She stuck her nose in the air and began to turn. He placed his hand over his heart and raised his other.

“I swear to the almighty Nick Carraway, to never say it again. In fact I will strike any and all variations of it from my vocabulary.  Including but not limited to, frickin’, freakin’, frackin’, and such.”

“I have no issues with ‘and such.'” She teased. “Dammit. You’re back in. How about this, you’ve been here for a while which suggests to me that she is quite late or you were annoyingly early. If she does show and you click, then so be it. No harm done. If she shows and she is a horrible shrew, fingers crossed, then, my name is Hannah, and this is my phone number. Take me out, but not for coffee. Super lame dude.”  She handed him a napkin with the coffee shop’s logo, her phone number and what appeared to be a crudely drawn sketch of a cat wearing an eye patch.

“Hi Hannah. I’m Bastian.”

“NEVER ENDING STORY!!”

“I’m afraid that I am not Bastian Bux. I hope this news is not too saddening.”

“I can get over it. I guess.”

“You are as kind as you are beautiful. Forget this set up. I don’t need to meet her.” Bastian stood and began to put on his jacket.

“But what if she’s THE ONE?!” Hannah asked. Bastian continued towards the door.

“The odds are astronomically against her after meeting you, Hannah. I’ll call you tomorrow. I hope to see you again soon.” With that he walked out of the shop full of life and a smile no amount of awkward throat clearing could ever shake. Back in the shop, Hannah returned to her post behind the counter,

“SO?! What the hell was all that about?” Her fellow Barista demanded.

“I think I just met him.” Hannah replied.

“Who?!”

“HIM!”

“Um, okay.”

“Oh, and also, you owe me $5. Pay up.”

“Dammit.” He handed a five dollar bill over to Hannah, and they continued about their shift.

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Written by whenitringswillyouanswer

October 11, 2012 at 2:46 PM

3 Responses

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  1. Great work! I enjoyed the “sadness beard,” … as ironic as that sounds.

    hawkista

    October 11, 2012 at 3:05 PM

  2. Haha. Thanks Stace. 🙂

    whenitringswillyouanswer

    October 11, 2012 at 3:14 PM

  3. really liked the “eye-patch wearing cat”

    Daphne Olivia Marechal de Carteret

    October 11, 2012 at 4:59 PM


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