Coffee Girl

Hello. My name is p2 and I am a java junkie. It’s been nine hours since my last cup of coffee.

As a coffee connoisseur I realized last week waiting in line that my love for coffee may not just be about the hot brown stuff. Every coffee house I go to has “the cute coffee girl” working behind the counter.

My partner Linder listens to me tell the short tale every morning about my drive to work. It always involves getting a fresh cup of joe. Often she will ask, “Is this the tattoo girl or the other one?”

That’s right, there are some many people I refer to as “cute coffee girl” that she has come up with additional nick names.

If I stop at the coffee trailer there at the Jackson exit, there is the tattoo girl. She is very cute in that earthy, hippy, Ann Arbor way. I first started going there in the winter. In sub freezing temperatures a team of three people run out of a trailer with coffee and pastry orders to a line of cars. Every morning she was always up beat and funny. What a great way to start the day. Oh, yeah, and she was cute with her artsy glasses and dew rag. On the first warm day, when all the extra layers were removed, it looked like she had one long sleeve and one short. But when she got to Jenna the Jetta with my order (she has it memorized and knows Jenna) I realized that there was some very nice and highly intricate ink covering her arm from the wrist up. Girl like that would not be interested in an uptight guy like me.

There is a cute girl in a coffee house that is around the corner from me. Second time there she asked my name. Hers is Amy. Every day I order a large black coffee and she always smiles, tells me to have a great day and to drive carefully. But you know how girls will wear a ring on their ring finger, but it seems like it is lower quality than the type of wedding ring she deserves…which means she just wears her favorite ring or her husband/fiancée is poor. I am sure she is just being nice. I still see her on weekends.

My first coffee girl was way out of my way. Unreasonably out of my way, in fact. Her name is Lauren. She is young, and very cute, Gwen Stefani looking… Well I used to go there every day about four years ago. Last year I was in her neighborhood one morning and got a large cup of coffee. The coffee there, I should point out, is really bad. The only reason I was going to chat with Lauren every morning. When I stopped by last year she remembered me, seemed really happy - really pregnant, but happy and looking forward to going to Hawaii for a week with her boyfriend. This week I dropped off some laundry, and went next door to check in on Lauren, who is now managing, really miserable, and didn’t say a word to customers. Our eyes met and she smiled for a second, said “hey stranger” and went back to her daily grind. She is a real cutie still.

I guess the moral to the story is, if you are trying to get my attention, just serve me some really good coffee.

Now - if you are still reading, this is the real blog for today. I don’t understand brides to be. They have a huge selection of choices from a billion dollar industry catering to their every whim, and yet they choose wedding dresses that do not… well… complement their build.

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