that smile

i really shouldn’t be posting this. for real. this post may go beyond where i like to be in terms of revealing actual info about me. it may dive a bit too deep into the mind of the raz. the raz may be partly exposed and this may or may not be a good idea. but the story was written and i just have to post it.

so. i wrote this a while ago. a while ago as in over the winter. today i was at the library and just had to get some juice from starbucks when i was done, which reminded me of this little story i had written, which is why i have posted it. i had to laugh at what happened today and wanted to write about it but it’s way too revealing. so instead i decided to at least post the original. just pretend it’s another lie:

i don’t even drink coffee.

when you live and work in harvard square you have quite a few different possibilities in terms of getting coffee. you better like starbucks though.

i’m walking to work for the past year and a half. at ¾ a mile i pass a starbucks, though it takes me a year or so to notice this. like i said, i don’t drink coffee.

actually i lie, i do drink something like coffee. EXpresso is my drug of choice, and make that iced. in fact, why don’t you go ahead and water that down while you’re at it.

long story short i had to quit the coffee about 3 years ago. i’ve now convinced myself that iced espresso is not the same as coffee and that i can drink as much of it as i want. the problem is that i take that last sentence a little too seriously. the other problem is that winter in cambridge is cold as frig. so i’ve recently devised a system of making the iced juice (as i like to call it) at home. perfect, i can now only get my fix when i’m at home, which cuts down on my juice spending considerably.

for the pure sake of convenience i decided to stop by this mystery starbucks on my way home from work one night to pick up some juice beans for the weekend.

me entering the store and wondering where the hell i am.

me finding the whole beans on a shelf near the back wall.

me standing in front of this wall of beans trying to figure out which bag i need.

me being approached by someone asking if i need any help.

me turning around to find a very attractive (if you need a visual think about a shorter version of audrey from twin peaks) barista who is continuing the approaching.

me doing my own approaching, though in the form of reaching complete nervousness.

me not being able to form a complete sentence.

me: “came to find express beans help find will you?”

her: (probably saying something like:) “um, can you please repeat that in the form of a sentence?”

me: (trying to re-word the sentence, came up with the following) “came to find express beans help find will you?”

her: “right, it can be a little confusing at first, i think i can find something out back”

me swearing that she was smiling at me and almost pleased that she had some sort of effect on me.

me confirming the smile as she asked if i wanted a free cup of coffee with the purchase.

me saying yes and forgetting that i had an addiction to coffee, and that i no longer drank it.

me again noticing the smile as we finished the transaction.

me smiling profusely as i exit the store.

one of the many problems with this encounter that i had to think about on my way home was how i was going to find a reason to enter the store again and see her. starting a new coffee buying habit was not in my budget. when making the juice at home i only needed juice beans about once every other week or so, which would clearly not be good in terms of being able to see her again.

problem solved: the next morning i decided to bite the bullet and get coffee with the hopes that she was working again. luck was on my side for the first time ever as somehow she worked the late shift the night before, and the early shift today. i was able to witness the same smile and became convinced that she somehow was attracted to me.

so am i crazy for thinking she might actually be attracted to me?

well, yes. but still……..

i’ve since been visiting the same store at least twice a day for the past two weeks, ordering coffee and fueling my addiction to both the juice and her. i can’t decide if i’m going into the store each day to get coffee or see her, and i’m afraid to admit it may be the latter.

the shyest person ever would be me.

i’m hoping, i’m praying, i’m begging, i’m dreaming of the day when i order my coffee and she spills it all over the counter. when i order my coffee and she drops it on the floor. when i order my coffee and she spills it all over me. anything, anything like this would be fine by me. anything to spark some sort of conversation other than our usual “thank you, have a nice day.”

perhaps she’ll soon realize that i am in fact the shyest person in the world and i’m not about to be sparking any conversations on my own. perhaps the sparking will be done by her one of these days.

me trying to convince myself that perhaps i should just be happy with the smile, that anything more would spoil the dream.

lets think realistically here though. in fact it was my imagination that she could even have the least bit of interest in me. in fact it was my imagination that i thought anything could even begin to happen between us. in fact it was my imagination that anything like this could ever happen to me. in fact it was my imagination that i could even bring myself to the point of wanting to start a relationship, ever.

so there you have it. since i somehow like disappointing situations i guess all is not lost. this one could feed my hunger for depression for many months to come.

something to dream about or something to forget about.