Page 9 of Who's Playing You
I might be a simple girl, but I was high maintenance when it came to my caffeinated beverages. I also had a dangerous sweet tooth, so I for one loved a great pastry to go along with my drink of choice. Throw in a full-fledged bakery / coffee shop - well that was my definition of heaven.
The Caffeinated Cock was the absolute best coffee shop in the entire county. Fortunately for me, it was on the corner of the street I lived on. I was there so often that the staff knew my drink orders based on my attire.
Apparently how I dressed often reflected my mood and cravings. Or so they told me.
As I rounded the corner, leaving campus and nearing Main Street, I looked over my shoulder yet again - like I had been doing since I stepped outside my studio space. No one was there, just like twenty seconds ago when I had looked too.
By this time, hours had passed since I had that strange encounter. I had partially talked myself out of the whole thing - maybe he’d been looking at- and waving to someone who was behind me, but I’d been so caught up in the… whatever, that I hadn’t noticed.
I mean, I was a logical person and that made logical sense.
Right?
After all, what would some guy - a very hot stranger - be doing looking at me and then waving? Nothing good, is the conclusion I came up with. So unless I was looking to be on the next Friday night special episode ofDatelineor20/20, I’d need to keep my wits about me. I didn’t have getting kidnapped on my bingo card this year.
No thanks.
So I’d chalked the whole thing up to one of three things. First, the scenario with someone being behind me and me stupidly thinking he was looking at me. Second it could be a case of mistaken identity, like he mistook me for someone else. Hey, that could happen! Or, thirdly, the whole kidnapping scenario.
I was waffling back and forth, trying to figure out which of those was most likely, but frankly, it felt like a three-way tie at this point.
Not willing to risk being the next star ofDateline, for all of fifteen minutes of fame, I decided that I should be more cautious. I mean, it couldn’t hurt.
With that thought, as I stepped into the street, I almost got hit by a passing car.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Oh my God, what was I thinking? Jesus, Mary and Joseph! I’m literally contemplating the ways in which to prevent being kidnapped and murdered, meanwhile I walk myself right into oncoming traffic.
Get it together, Scottie!
After looking around and seeing that no one witnessed my near-death experience, I quickly hustled myself down Main and pulled open the front door of the Caffeinated Cock, only to be met by a gust of chilled air from their amazing air conditioning. Quickly following that was the aroma of my favorite coffee and the sweet, sweet smell of sugar and baked goods.
This was literal heaven. My nerves and embarrassment quickly dissipated.
But also… I just had a near death experience - sort of. So imagine… what if I were dead? What if this were heaven? Could I just exist here for eternity? I probably could.
“Hey Scottie! Late one today, huh?” Gina called from behind the counter where she had just taken an order and moved to the espresso machine. I loved Gina and her no nonsense attitude. She was your typical trendy barista with a Bass Pro Shops baseball cap on, black T-shirt with a quippy saying and baggy jeans.
“Yeah, I guess so. Later than normal I suppose,” I replied to her with a smile as I neared the counter to examine what was left of today’s pastries.
“Ron’s thinking about letting me try out a new end-of-summer drink. Can I make you one? You need to give me yourhonest feedback though. He’s not sold on it yet, but I think it could be a great weekend special or something, ya know?”
I nodded my head at Gina. “That winter drink you came up with last January was one of my favorites and did really well, so why’s Ron giving you a hard time now?” I replied.
She waved her hand in dismissal as she foamed the milk for the customer that was down the counter from me. “You know him, he loves to give me a hard time. But underneath his rough exterior, he’s just a big ol’ softy. He’ll let me do it, he just likes to think he’s making me work for it. But we all know damn well that the last two drinks I’ve come up with really hit the spot and got people talking. They blew up our Instagram too.”
“Oh yeah, I remember. People were flocking here on weekends, making it impossible for regulars like me to…”
Before I could continue she cut me off, “Oh stop. That happenedone time, and you know it! But you still got your latte without much of a wait, sotechnicallyyou can’t complain. Not too much at least. But we can’t control the power of the ‘Gram, and frankly we don’t want to when we have results like those.”
“True… ish. I guess. And what do you mean, what’s ‘The Gram’, like a telegram?”
“Scottie, Jesus! What, do you live under a rock?Instagram!”
“Oh. Yeah. I knew that,” I lied.
She rolled her eyes and then looked down to finalize the design of the milk in the cup in her hand before taking a few steps to hand it to the customer, who promptly walked away.
