Some coworkers had mentioned drinks after work, but that was definitely out of the question. Last week, Ean drank me under the table. The only thing I remember is waking up in my car, with a homeless woman. I’m not sure how she got there, but I promise we didn’t have sex. So, until I know how this woman woke up in my back seat, the only buzz I’m going to get will be from a combination of chocolate and coffee. With that said, I hit the Mocha Bean Café for a java boost, and a peek at my soon-to-be wife, Candice.
Ray and I walk into the Mocha Bean Café and there she is. Candice. I hadn’t seen her in about two weeks, mainly because I’m not a coffee drinker. But once I saw Candice, I instantly forgot Ray was next to me, and walked toward the counter. She looked up to me and asked to take my order. I opened with a greeting, good to see you again. But her expression did not say she remembered me.
"What can I get you?" she asked.
Damn it! She doesn’t remember me... I tried to make small talk as I waited for my drink, but all she did was smile politely and wipe off the counter. Suddenly, a kid who looked too young to understand the word job walks over to me, dusting coffee grounds from his apron.
"You might as well give it up, she’s got her eye on someone else."
I suddenly felt crushed. Devastated. I thought I made a good impression. What happened?
Ray and I left the Mocha Bean Café, without my coffee. Life sucks!