Caffeine Love Connection
So there I was, sitting at the counter, minding my own business when there he was.
He stood in front of the door, blocking the afternoon light that had been shining in the café's French doors, casting his comforting shadow over me.
I was temporarily blinded by the light and by the lack there of, so my initial reaction to him could be considered, really, my secondary reaction at best.
He was tall, tall and lean, almost like a dancer. Though not one of those overly muscular ones you see on the latest music videos with the bleach blond pop diva.
Dressed in blue jeans, beat up sneakers, a band tee shirt, and leather jacket, he would have looked good with any type of girl on his arm. Well, any girl other than me.
He walked to the counter and flashed a dazzling smile at the pencil legged, pretty of a waitress who kindly offered to take his order, if he pleased.
She didn't seem too impressed by his face, which was tanned with some windburn on his cheeks. It was a good-natured face, one that looked as if it laughed a lot. He smiled again and placed his order, shelled out the three dollars for his coffee and waited for her to get it, fresh brewed of course.
I caught myself staring at him, and quietly-but hastily- turned my full attention to the coffee that was in front of me.
He had seen me though, and smiled.
Yes, I'm sure he was amused at the idea of someone like me checking him out. Its really quite laughable that he could be even slightly interested in someone like me.
He turned back to the counter and gratefully took his coffee from the waitress and sat down a seat away from me at the counter, smiling a polite 'hello' as I moved my backpack from the seat between us.
It was awkward, sitting there in silence, sipping the quickly cooling coffee, but oddly it was nice. Almost comforting.
I would glance over at him, then he would glance over at me, smiling, as if sharing a secret. Then we would turn back to our coffee and our own worlds.
The temptation to speak to him was over whelming, and gripped me more than once as we started to glancing game over again. But I was afraid, I was defiantly not bold enough to make the first move. Most defiantly not that bold.
He, however, seemed tempted to do the same thing, but each time out eyes met for a moment longer, the electricity in the air grew thicker. I almost opened my mouth to speak, but to my displeasure he stood to leave.
He nodded quietly to me and slid his coffee cup toward Ms Pretty the waitress, his rubbish piled neatly in the cup. He zipped up his jacket and walked toward the door, never looking back.
I was such a coward. As I sat there drowning in my own despair and trying to drown in the sweet death of caffeine, Ms Pretty handed me a crumpled napkin and smiled as she moved away.
Confused, I didn't know exactly what to do with a nasty, coffee stained, paper napkin, when it donned on me that this napkin, in particular, was not what it seemed.
Scrawled there, in uneven pen strokes, were seven digits and an area code, as well as a name.
I held the napkin to my heart, and would have done a dance of joy if my Literature professor had not just walked in the shop.
I can't tell you for sure how this caffeine created love connection will turn out, but hey. If it happened over coffee, it can't be that bad. Can it?
Author's Note: This is the edited version. I was in a bit of a hurry to type this and had a crazy kitten playing with my lap top's mouse while I was working on it so it seems I made a few mistakes. Thank you very much xillbeyourcupid for pointing it out for me. Thats why I love you guys! 3