A plea for the lonely...

It was only my third night of working behind the counter at Cafe Espresso. I'm not a big coffee drinker, so learning all the special names for the highly-caffeinated beverages makes me nervous. I was studying the drink sheet as you approached the counter with the empty water pitcher. Silly me... so worried about the Latte's that I forgot about the water. I apologized, you told me not to be sorry and went back to the books. You were studying something... for grad school, I assume. Perhaps, however, you are younger than I took you for. I'm not always the best at guessing ages. Time passes. You, and your piercing brown eyes, approach the counter again in your casual yet somehow extremely attractive sweatpants. I feared I had forgotten something else, but you just wanted a hot chocolate. Your second of the night. I'm glad you didn't get anything fancy...to be honest, you kind of made me nervous...in the giddy-school-girl kind of way. As the closing announcements were made, you packed your things, gave me a half smile and walked out the doors before I had the chance to say something clever like "Have a good night" or "Thank You".

So... to the brown-eyed, sweatpant wearing, hot chocolate drinking, studier, I don't know who you are, where you came from, if you're attached, or if you'd even like a girl like me... but I do know I'd like you to come back sometime.

Till then,

Tempa