The town where I used to work (when I worked at Fantasy Disco Ford) recently built a Starbucks. They of course opened their doors a few days after I started working at New Job so I had never been. I got to listen to The Cake Lady and Jiffinner talk about how absolutely awesome Starbucks was. I believe that the exact phrase used by The Cake Lady during her first week of Starbucks patronage was "it was like an orgasm in my mouth".
I had managed to resist temptation (read: the line was always too long when I drove through for me to stop) until The Cake Lady told me about the Pumpkin Latte she had. That was it for me, I had to have one. So on Wednesday, I hauled ass over there and when I arrived and saw how long the line was, I decided to just park and go in. (I think thats one of the things having kids makes you appreciate more: how easy it is to go in some where with out them.)
There was quite a crowd. Over in one corner on a sofa were three older ladies with their friends sat on the chairs around them. In a corner by himself was an older biker looking guy who was, and I shit you not, jamming out to the Starbucks muzak. Then there was a group of what I can only assume were travelers. People who were arriving for the Thanksgiving holiday or who had already arrived and were making the trip to get coffee from their hotel rooms before hitting the road again. The men of this group, two or three mid forties to early fifties guys were all dressed and ready to go with their probably already read newspapers tucked under their arms. Coffee seems to merely be a formality for them. The matriarch woman of this group was the only female amongst them that had on normal clothes and had her hair and make up done. There were three or four young women, ranging from teen to early thirty - all in pajamas and then two younger men, fully dressed but very sleepy looking. Every member of this group was sitting outside except for the apparent patriarch who was placing and paying for orders, a teenaged girl in her pjs and a very cute late twenty-something sleepy dude. The three of them were in line in front of me.
Cute Boy in front of me kept turning around and smiling at me. Under normal circumstances I might have done something more than just smile back. However, with the dude's dad standing right there (he called him "dad" - I'm not claiming to be psychic here), it was evident that it would be inappropriate for me to hit on him, or visa versa.
But the smiling back and forth continues as we order our coffees and then pick them up from the other side of the counter and then the two of us exit the building at the same time and I walk over to my van which is parked directly in front of the front door.
I told The Cake Lady yesterday that as I was walking to my van, it occurred to me that if dude had wanted my number, he could have just punched it into his phone seeing as how it was displayed across my back window, directly under the "for sale" I had written on there with shoe polish.
The Cake Lady's response?
"Dude, you should always have your car for sale!"