Waiting for the other spoon to drop

So I suppose I should tell you about Juice Monkeys now. It is where I get my non-Dunkin Donuts hot chocolate, and it is not white. It is chocolate-chocolate. With whipped cream.

So the first time I went there, I was thinking, "Awww, this place has a name that reminds me of middle school." The second time I went there, it was for the free wifi. The third time I went there, well:

So there's this Irish boy. (Famous last words...?) He's from Galway, and is super cute. He's always smiling, and he likes some excellent music, like Jeff Buckley. But not just "Hallelujah" Jeff. No, the first Jeff Buckley song I heard him play was "Forget Her," which is wicked legit. And he has read the Brontes and has an opinion on them -- which is to say he prefers Austen, but an opinion is an opinion -- and he writes.

Needless to say, I've developed something of a crush on him.

So when I'm home, I drink a lot of hot chocolate. And with the wifi, I've been drinking quite a bit of hot chocolate. Which would be fine, but it offers me lots of opportunities to make a fool of myself. Like the time I asked him what he studied and he told me had a masters in psychology. And I, of course, dropped my spoon. Which is one thing. But I bent down to pick it up, and I fell off my chair.

I had been waiting, you know, for the other spoon to drop.

Which it did this afternoon. And rather spectacularly, I might add.



I stopped in for a hot chocolate today after class with Kevin from New York and Robert from Milwaukee. Lucky Charms (copyrighted by SFerry, 2009) was working and he told me to take a seat and he'd bring my chocolate over in a minute. So he brought my hot chocolate over and I hung out drinking it and talking sports and politics with Kevin and Robert (Yes, Courtney -- that's what I said, too!) When it was time to leave, there were two people placing an order at the counter, but I hadn't paid. He told me I could just pay him next time and I smiled and thanked him very politely. And I left gracefully as possible.

Which isn't very.

As I pulled open the door and held it for Robert and Kevin, my shoulder banged against the wall. And a light switch. Which turned off all the lights in the front of the shop. But there were three or four switches and I was forced to immediately weigh in my head the value of my two options: trial and error, which could be spectacular or disastrous, and just running away.

I promptly fled.