I have some very upsetting news.
I know that this will be quite a blow to some of you. I know that some of you will likely need to sit down before reading this. I encourage you to take a moment, away from coworkers or prying eyes, in order to allow the shock of this to sink in. You might even think about taking advantage of your employer’s counseling program. I haven’t quite gotten over this myself.
This morning started out fairly uneventfully. I just blew my hair dry after my shower, not styling it because I had a hair appointment at 10:00 this morning, and I am confident enough to go to work looking like dog slobber. Theorhetically, I shouldn’t need to style my hair, it should fall naturally into this urban shag kind of thing, but I generally feel the need to putz with it. I was a little trepedatious to drive through Starbucks au naturale coif, but I’d all but given up on Starbucks Guy. I feel no need to look nice for UnSurly Girl.
I still made sure to put on lipstick though. I’m not a heathen.
I drove up and was greeted by Unsurly Girl, who comped me my venti Vanilla Mocha. Imbued with courage, probably due to the audacity of my Pulp Fiction hair, I said “What ever happened to that tall guy who used to be here?”
She smiled, as though warmed by the thought of his perky smile and linebacker form. “That tall guy?” She queried. I nodded.
“He moved to Madison to manage the new Starbucks there.”
A cloud passed over the sun right then. My vision fogged through my tears.
“He always liked you…” she added. “I’ll tell him that the Vanilla Mocha woman said hi if I see him.”
“Car Thumping Girl” I whispered, barely audible.
“Yeah, he always liked your music. He’d do a little dance.” And then she smiled. I hated her then. Hated her for getting to see Starbucks Guy’s little hip movements and perky smile. But her smile was sad too.
We shared a moment of silence. Well, mostly silence, but for the honking of the five cars behind me. Then I drove off. It might have been my imagination, but I think my venti Vanilla Mocha tasted a little bitter.
I now understand UnSurly Girl’s shift in demeanor. The crux of our love triangle lives in Madison now, thus she no longer has to listen to his rambling about my excellent taste in music or my bright cheery morning smile. Or at least I’m thinking he must have been talking about that.
Well, at least I can start wearing my wedding ring again.
Oh I was just kidding. Jeez. I wouldn’t hide my wedding ring from Starbucks Guy.
I hate those people in Madison. I hate them all to hell.
Lucky bastards.
There is a valuable lesson to be learned there. You just never know when life is going to throw you a curve ball. Seize the day. Eat that chocolate. Flirt with that barrista. Tell him to shake his sexy groove thing. He might move to another city tomorrow and you’ll never have known the joy of seeing his firm barrista bottom shaking in his khakis. And that would be a very sad thing.
I’ve made an important life change from this. Life is too short. I’m going to throw hazard to the wind and live life on the cutting edge from now on.
I’ve decided I am no longer going to waste five minutes trying to fold fitted sheets. I’m just rolling those muthas into a ball and stuffing them into the linen closet.
So there.
