I had a very nice chat with the Starbucks barista today. He was very cute, to the point I actually thought he was gay (no offense!) that is until he pointed out the 5 year-old lift tickets attached to my ski jacket. "I see someone has already been skiing this year, twice even!". I was so embarrassed I blurted out "oh no, I haven't been skiing in like 5 WHOLE YEARS, I just keep these on my coat." I am such an idiot. He winked at me and said "you're not from here are you?". And on it went. From skiing, to Milwaukee to weddings to new years, f;irt flirt flirt. My coffee (decaf, non-fat mocha with no whip cream) was waiting for ME for a change. Ha ha.
So, I got to thinking as I strolled down the sidewalk with all my free time; Is picking up the Starbucks barista as bad as hitting on the bartender? Having been a bartender I used to roll my eyes at men who would pull the ol' "hey baby, why don't you do a shot with me?" line. I mean, how would he feel if I walked into his office and asked him to do a shot with me while he sat at his cube, answering the phone?? Kind of odd. Anyway. Picking up the barista is the daytime equivalent to picking up the bartender in my mind.
I will now go there every Tuesday to see if he writes his phone number on my cup next to the "DIANE, N/F, No Whip, Old lift tix".