Some of you have asked

for an update on Mike, my Starbucks barista/potential lover/BFF/soulmate for all intents and purposes.

Well I haven’t been to Starbucks much recently because I’m trying to be a responsible adult whose life motto is WWSOD? (“What Would Suze Orman Do?”), but I’m sad to report that the past few times I’ve seen him, Mike has given me pretty much nothing but no love. I don’t know what I did, but he barely acknowledges me anymore! In fact, it seems like the few other people in my life I thought I  had a good thing going with have suddenly recently also decided they’re just not that into me.

So evidently I’m doing something wrong. I just wish I could figure out what–I don’t think I’ve been acting any differently. Maybe it’s because I’ve gained more than a few love pounds–but for once, they’ve actually gone to my boobs and butt–it’s a Christmas miracle! If anything, you’d think that with the way society’s objectification of women is going, people would love that! And if that’s what Mike’s upset about, I want to be like, “YOU MADE ME THIS WAY.” Or maybe this is just the inevitable trajectory of my lovableness/general ability to make people be able to stand me–just all downward–like the Hot Mess Express taking a nosedive.

Mike’s trying to make me fat(ter)

Just got back from Starbucks, where I had another encounter with Mike, my soul mate Starbucks barista:

Me: “I’m SO GLAD it’s Friday!”

Mike: “You mean, you’re so glad you’re seeing me on Friday?”

Me: “I’m SO GLAD I’m seeing you on Friday.”

Mike: [high-fives me]

And then he gave me a subtle, unsolicited free cookie again (chewy chocolate this time), despite my attempt at subtle protestation.

No, I don’t ALWAYS wear this sweater

But I’m really trying to not eat more because it’s just the last thing I need, so when I got back to my office, I asked my boss if he wanted my cookie.

Me: “… and yesterday Mike gave me two giant warm chocolate chip cookies AND a breakfast sandwich–and I ate them ALL.”

Boss [as he listens, eating my cookie]:

Me: “OK, I’m going to repeat that, and I’m gonna need you to change your reaction.”

I Think I’m in Love with My New Starbucks Barista

It started off on the wrong foot… He drew a heart on my cup the first time we interacted (pictured below). I just thought, obviously he doesn’t know me and we are NOT on the same page. He also complimented my nails and said, “They’re bright as Hell.” My response was, “They’re sparkly. And I’m not bright.” But then he kindly undercharged me, and I thought, well, we may be on different levels, and it may be a terrible heart, which is a little insulting, frankly, but I can’t deny that he’s nice.

I thought that would be a one-time thing, but the next time I went in, he was there again, and, once again, drew a heart on my cup and undercharged me. This happened a couple more times, and each time, we talked and bonded and joked more. E.g.:

1. Him: “Oh, it’s you again ;)”

Me: “Get used to it, I’m here like every day. Which is embarrassing. But I just don’t care.”

2. Him [re my Seahawks hat]: “You need to burn that hat.”

Me: “Why? What’s your team?”

Him: “Ravens”

Me: “Oh, you mean you’re a fan of Ray Lewis, the murderer?” [loudly and passionately, as he’s ringing the person in front of me up]

Him: [“Yikes” face]

But I also felt guilty–like I should pay what I owe, and he’s probably going to be fired if he keeps this up. But he never vocalized that he was undercharging me–I just noticed the lower number on the register and he would kind of wink at me, so I wasn’t sure if I should say something, because then his coworkers might hear and he would get in trouble?

And then this morning, I walked in, zombie-like, already defeated by the day and it was barely 9 AM:

Him: “Hey Alex!”

Me: “Hi Mike. Ughhh I’m SO tired.”

Mike: “Me too. I’ve been here since 5 AM. Do you need something to eat?”

Me: “Yeah, but I can’t decide. What should I get?”

Mike: “How about I surprise you?”

Me: “Ooohh, yes please.”

I then went to the register and ordered and paid for my drink with a different barista.  Shortly after my drink was ready at the end of the bar, Mike came over and handed me 2 pastry bags (pictured below). I tried to hand him my phone with the Starbucks card app pulled up so he could charge my card for whatever he gave me, but he just subtly smiled and nodded “no” at me. So I smiled and silently thanked him as we exchanged “have a good day!” ‘s.

His hearts are getting better!

He ended up giving me 2 giant warm chocolate chip cookies and a warm egg/sausage/cheese breakfast sandwich, and drew hearts on them too. And I ate ALL of them before 10 AM and was just happy as a clam. So he’s probably my soul mate, right? I mean, a man who feeds me and apparently doesn’t seem to care if I eat all of the things and get fat? It’s all I could ever ask for.

I don’t trust anyone who leaves a croissant untouched

That’s just un-American

And so it continues…

with my Starbucks stalker who is from Dubai. As you may or may not recall, I had the misfortune of meeting this guy a few weeks ago and failed at saying no when he asked for my number. Since then, I’ve become one murder-in-an-alley-with-body-parts-chopped-up-and-subsequently-dispersed-geographically-within-a-few-mile-radius away from becoming a cautionary tale. I’ve gotten the below texts from him, so I photographed them in their various stages, because I want you to feel the same Jaws theme-worthy, dreadful anticipation as you view them that I did in real time. Per my mother’s suggestion, I saved his # as “DO NOT ANSWER” as a would-be helpful reminder. But it turns out that being jolted by the sound of a text message while simultaneously looking down to see “DO NOT ANSWER” glaring at me menacingly, while I’m alone in the dark on the living room floor of my apartment and what I’m doing there isn’t important, is actually completely terrifying. So, once again, thanks, Mom.

*DUUN dun DUUN dun….

*WTF does this mean? Anyone? WHERE IS AUTOCORRECT WHEN YOU NEED IT.

*Perhaps the most menacing of them all, this appears to be a landscape orientation photograph of his head in silhouette as he lay on his bed. When I screen-shotted this to my mom, she aptly replied, “What is that?”

Now I know what he meant–he needs help with elementary spelling lessons and/or with mental health. And OMG I literally JUST noticed the auto fill options the iPhone gives you (“ok,” “yes,” “no”) IT’S OMNISCIENT AND KNOWS THAT I NEED TO JUST SAY “NO.”

Oh, I don’t know, after receiving these, I’m just SPLENDID.

‘Five Photos, Five Stories’ Challenge Day 3: THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DON’T FOLLOW MY ADVICE

FROM TODAY’S EARLIER POST AND GIVE OUT YOUR NUMBER OUT OF PITY AND BECAUSE YOU’RE AFRAID TO SAY NO AND BE MEAN. [And for more info on what the ‘Five Photos, Five Stories’ Challenge is, click here].

Let me paint you a picture: It’s 10:55 AM today, and I am going to Starbucks after a doctor’s appointment, before I head back to the office. The line is almost out the door, which never happens, but nothing shall stand in the way of me and my coffee. So I get in line, and the man ahead of me starts talking to me. He has a thick accent, but I can understand his words perfectly. What I can’t understand are the sentences the words make up–they were basically gibberish. From what I could understand, today was the first time he had been late to his class and his teacher was upset at him? [And WHY do I care?] It was like he started speaking to me mid-story, as if we were friends picking back up a conversation and I knew what the fuck he was talking about.

Then he went on to ask me where I’m from (I told him Colorado, which he later referred to as a “country”), and I tried to converse pleasantly as the line proceeded, thinking an end was in sight and I could be friendly until then. He said he was from Dubai, and came here three months ago to study English. I THOUGHT he was maybe in my tribe when I asked him if he liked LA and he shook his head, and then just repeated “I can’t” a few times–because that is me in a nutshell. But when he explained WHY he doesn’t like it here–because “everyone here is from Iran”–I thought, mmmmm that’s a little bit prejudiced, if not also completely untrue. So I just tried to smile and nod–my go-to with people who I don’t like [everyone] and crazy people. But apparently he took that as genuine interest in him, because he continued the conversation after we had both put in our orders, and after I heard my drink called at the bar but was too worried about rudely interrupting him to get it and leave.

He asked [stated], “what is your number” as he handed me his phone to enter it. I froze–I didn’t know how to get out of giving it to him (despite having JUST posted AN ENTIRE ARTICLE with A BILLION OPTIONS for what to do in EXACTLY THIS SITUATION a FEW HOURS prior)–so I just put it in his phone, thinking, “I’ll just ignore him if he ever tries to contact me.” But then he called me right then and there (TOLD YOU) so I could have his number, too. He said to contact him if I ever wanted to try an Arabic restaurant, go for coffee, or “just talk.” He also said, “please don’t forget me.” At this cringe-worthy point, I just wanted to leave. But then, he asked me if I have a drivers license.

“…Yes…” I said, hesitant about where this was going.

“I need your help,” he said.

FUCK.

“I need you to go to the DMV with me, because I don’t have a license and I need someone with a California ID with me in order to get one,” he went on.

STILL nodding and smiling, and now laughing nervously, I said, “That doesn’t sound right…”

“Trust me,” he said.

At this point, with the paranoia of an immigration attorney’s daughter, I thought “IS HE TRYING TO GET ME TO MARRY HIM SO HE CAN GET A LICENSE WHAT IS HAPPENING I DON’T EVEN BELIEVE IN MARRIAGE I AM SO CONFUSED GET ME OUT OF HERE.” So, like a rambling crazy person, I continued in the most upbeat of tones, with a psycho smile plastered on my face, and said about 40 variations of, “That can’t be!/Are you sure!?/I would ask them again/That’s so weird!” and ended with, “It was nice to meet you!” [read, “I’m trying to be nice so you won’t find me and try to murder and/or marry me!”]

And then, a couple hours later, I got the texts we all knew were coming:

And while that is the first rose I’ve gotten in a while, and he is correct, I do have the face of a perfect angel, I would have much rather never given him my number than now be in this position, because this is my neighborhood Starbucks, so like I HAVE to be able to go there, and the baristas knew his name, so he’s apparently a regular, and now if I see him there again I am going to have to pretend to be my own twin, or have amnesia, or be engaged (LOL), or wear a disguise. So let this be a lesson to you–JUST SAY NO BECAUSE OTHERWISE YOU WILL HAVE A VERY FRENZIED AND CONFUSING TEXT CONVERSATION WITH YOUR MOTHER AFTER SENDING THIS SCREENSHOT TO HER AND SEND HER INTO AN OVERREACTIVE FREAKOUT AND HAVE TO ASSURE HER THAT HE WAS LIKE 90 LBS SO YOU COULD TAKE HIM IF IT CAME TO THAT.

For my third ‘Five Photos, Five Stories’ Challenge nomination, I choose OMGSHEREALLYSAIDTHAT! It’s completely up to you whether you participate–for the rules, click here.

Does anyone else keep an endless supply of Starbucks napkins in their glove compartment?

You just never know when you’re gonna need to wipe some scone off your face.

“I don’t like Starbucks anymore, I like Coffee Bean better.”

-said the dumbest person ever #thispersoniswhaticonsidertheepitomeoffailure

#DudsOfStarbucks on Instagram

Stephanie Bitterman and I are starting a “Duds of Starbucks”/@dudsofstarbucks acct on Instagram, because we all know that Starbucks is where the duds flock (self-included). Send your pics to dudsofstarbucks@gmail.com and let the shaming begin!

photo cred Stephanie Bitterman