COFFEE GIRL
Posted on: June 6, 201048 comments so far (is that a lot?)
The following story is true, although several details have been watered down so you don’t get too engaged.
When people speak of desirable social environments, the #1 quality they look for: “down-to-earth” people. To me, that’s a peculiar choice. I prefer “friendly” people, for what am I to do with a surplus of unfriendly down-to-earth people. In order to embrace their lack of flightiness or realistic outlook (if that’s what down-to-earth means), I need them to first say hello; to be charming, and thus welcoming.
In my experience, there exists an extreme shortage of charming strangers. Social networking and the isolation that comes from it pretty much killed off the last of ‘em. In fact, charm isn’t really necessary anymore; people are getting by without it. Engaging the passerby now has a stigma attached (you’re creepy), but befriending people online, good for you!!! You’re expanding your network.
So in the rare instance when a stranger charms me a bit, namely a girl, I feel compelled to take action.
Sitting in a coffee shop pretending to write a new script (I was making a To-Do List), the female barista approached me and asked what I was working on. More importantly, she bore a bright smile… sans incentive. For anybody who has ever been to a Starbucks/Coffee Bean/Local Spot, you know this never happens. It’s the stuff of movies. Someone showing interest in what they typically wouldn’t is the inciting incident to many stories; Character A is shattering Character B’s routine (e.g. being ignored). Therefore, I instantly felt I was in a movie and assumed the protagonist role.
We only talked for 3 minutes, but many topics were covered: What I was (theoretically) working on, her opinion about it, me opining about her opinion, and ultimately the abstract idea of speaking to each other again. There was ‘something’ special about this girl; something that words COULD describe, but would require a pen from the romantic era.
With phone technology improving every week, it makes sense that we exchanged email addresses.
How long should I wait? Oh forget it — I couldn’t help it. I wrote her that night. Here is the exact body of my message:
“Hey, what’s up? Hope you didn’t have to work too late. You seem fun, but… I could be wrong. I’d love to find out. When can you hang out?”
SOLID. INQUISITIVE. MYSTERIOUS. SHARP-WITTED. FUNCTIONAL.
PART 2
One day — that’s all it took for her to write me back. I wrote her on Sunday; she wrote me back Monday morning. And in LA, one day is warp speed. Here’s why:
Communication in LA is no longer about efficiency. Instead, it is a chess game of perception. One’s reply time (in regards to a phone call, text, or email) carries with it an indicator of one’s preoccupation. The assumption carried by most people is “Every minute that this person doesn’t respond to me is one more minute that they are doing something better than responding to me.” In every other city, this thought-process would be dismissed as insecure paranoia (e.g. their cat might be sick) In LA… this is EXACTLY correct. Their cat is fine.
Coffee Girl’s email was straightforward: “I’d be down to hang out. I’m free on Thursday night.”
I was both elated and upset. While excited to hang-out, I desired responses to my specific inquiries. For example, I wish she wrote: “Oh I’m fun. Question is… can you keep up?” (The underline was also part of my fantasy). But if she had composed such playful rhetoric, I would compulsively keep the chain going and inevitably botch the mission. Instead, I kept it brief: “Cool, how about Thai?”
I told some friends about my upcoming Thursday date; how I found this girl charming/witty/ambitious. They asked how I hit on her. I said she hit on ME. From this point on, the conversation played out very much like the bleacher scene in GREASE, except before anything happened. So unlike John Travolta, everything we said was in future tense. “Are you going to get very far?” “I hope I do.” “Does she have a car?” “I don’t know, I’m going to pick her up.”
To those that have been in love, you know how it feels to see the world with that magical rosy blur. I’m not talking to you.
To those that have awaited a date with a true compelling stranger, just the anticipation gives you an undiscovered swagger. For this isn’t just any date, it’s the beginnings of a fairy tale; and in no fairy tale does the hero or heroine meet their true love through a mutual friend. It’s all fate, happenstance, and destiny… and that brings a rush.
Thursday night came and I never heard from her.
PART 3
When I taught English in Brazil, even my most advanced students had trouble with the word “flakey”. I described a lot of Americans as ‘flakey’ (especially Blue-State Americans). My students asked, “Can you ‘splain me flakey?”. I would try, but at the conclusion of my seminar even I was confused.
I started by describing the literal definition of a ‘flake’ — a small, thin piece that has become detached from a larger piece of mass. (Note: The pure confusion on one student’s face would have, if pursued, become a classic painting as memorable as the Mona Lisa).
This didn’t work, so I tried a different approach. I asked them to close their eyes and imagine a leaf on a tree — then picture a very small part of that leaf breaking off in a strong wind. As the piece of leaf descends to the ground, the wind will blow it east, west, southeast, up, down, diagonal, etc… The direction of the flake is unpredictable; it has no clear path or control, and tends to be at the mercy of its surrounding environment.
I will get back to this, but first I want to tell you what happened with Coffee Girl.
Friday, Saturday, Sunday all passed without contact, and I chalked the encounter up to the aphorism: “If you don’t try, you can’t win” (which is, by the way, a graveyard for frustration; one that periodically has zombie-like attacks on the mind). And after all… it was only a 3-minute conversation.
Then, Monday afternoon, I opened my email to find the following message from Coffee Girl:
“Hey, SO sorry I didn’t get back to you. Things have been crazy, but I can do THIS Thursday night. How about 7:30 at Cherry Cafe?”
With its myriad meanings, “Crazy” is one of the most utilized words in English. However, only recently has “Crazy” become a synonym for “Busy”. My linguistics assumption: This usage was conceived by Gen-X, strongly maintained by the current Gen-Z, and most definitely popularized by my generation: Gen-Peter Pan. I’m no history buff, but I’m guessing Dr. King never described his protest schedule as “crazy”.
I won’t tell you what I wrote back, because dating experts will find fault in my word choices, but I will say that I confirmed. We’d meet there.
Thursday night came and I decided to be fashionably late. Ohhhhhh yeah, my life is crazy too. You can’t nail down a time on ME! I’ll be there when I’m there, honey.
I showed up at 7:46, the hostess handed me a menu, and sat me down, alone… at a table for two.
7:46, 7:52, 8:00, 8:03, 8:07 and I still had only one means of contacting her: Email — for why did I need to force her number with the place and time already set. I fired off a quick one from my phone, and this time… the response came in seconds.
“Oh no! I totally forgot about this. Can we reschedule? Yikes!”
And so I explained to my Brazilian students that a flake being whisked away by a breeze is akin to external forces affecting people’s ability to follow-thru. They are “flakey” because, like a flake falling from a tree, they’re helpless to the direction life takes them. No big deal really, except sometimes there are victims in the process.
(Note: They got it, but didn’t. For example, they kept calling slightly tardy students ‘flakey’)
I didn’t get up right away because that would be too telling to the couples sitting around me. Instead I kept reading the menu, ordered an iced tea, and texted “what’s up?” to many MANY people.
So it caught me off-guard when someone said my name. I figured an old co-worker spotted me and decided to take action. But no… it was her.
Remembering she worked/lived in this neighborhood, and chose the locale, I realized this was possible.
“Oh, hey”, I said theatrically. But Coffee Girl spoke with an intense urgency: “Listen, I’m so sorry I forgot about this, but my brother is going through some serious issues right now and I absolutely have to go see him tonight. He called me earlier today and invited me to his house for dinner. That hasn’t happened in over 8 months! Something is wrong with him, and I know he needs me there. I’m very worried about him. Look, I know this is weird, but can you come with me? I thought we could talk at his house.”
Amidst telling this story from hindsight with a skewed perspective in my favor, I failed to mention something of concrete truth. I will say it now: Coffee Girl… was remarkably pretty. And that can kick pride and a value system right in the teeth.
I hesitated (just to give the impression that I had a backbone), then agreed to come. And once again her smile hit me hard.
“Great!”, she said. “My boyfriend is pulling the car around front. You can ride with us.”
PART 4
An oft criticism about LA is that it’s ‘fake’. Cosmetically, sure, but when people talk about ‘LA fake’ they are referring to people’s inability to be ‘real’ (which is ironic because one would need an absolute stronghold on their identity in order to ‘fake’ it — and that ain’t the case out here) New Yorkers hate Los Angelinos and vice versa. LAers are thought of as disingenuous, always wearing a veneer, and NYers are thought of as snobs who love New York and think they’re better than everyone. When the Knicks play the Lakers, each respective fan hopes to win a battle against a facet of humanity they dislike (arrogance/artificiality).
I don’t fully agree with New York’s claim, but they were definitely a little bit right when I told her boyfriend “it was great to meet him”.
He cleared room in the backseat for me. And, as it turned out, I wasn’t the only +1 of the evening. When my date sat up front with her boyfriend, their brown pitbull joined me in the back. This dog… was mean, but, thankfully, came with an oral instruction manual. I was (kindly) told he doesn’t trust new people, and I shouldn’t sit too close. Not knowing the ‘biting threshold of distance’, I scooched closer to the door, providing me with an extra 1.5 inches of precaution. The dog let out a huffy, angry growl, implying, from his point of view, that something in this car was bad wrong.
Then this pitbull started barking ferociously and instantly got a scolding from his parents: “No, no… no”. My date’s boyfriend followed this up with the least surprising sentence I’ve heard in LA: “He’s a rescue dog.”
Now laid back and comfortable, Coffee Girl apologized again about forgetting our dinner, and said she’s really bad about making and keeping plans. The car suffered a silent awkward beat when I told her I was the exact opposite.
During the ride to the mysterious brother’s house, I engaged in superficial conversation with the boyfriend (which I initiated). The topics:
1. Where I was from.
2. Where he was from.
3. Respective attributes about where I was from (primarily about temperature).
4. Contrasting qualities about where he was from and where he currently resides (primarily about temperature)
5. Mutually summarizing the above discourse as ‘cool’.
And then we arrived.
Before going up to the brother’s apartment, I received a brief report on his character. “Brother” (as we’ll call him) drinks a lot. He never has people over. Anger comes easy to him. He’s perpetually depressed due to a chemical imbalance and just regular shit. He views life as a curse.
I said, “He sounds like a great guy”. My date said… “He is”. And my date’s boyfriend said, “Try and get out of the car slowly — our dog gets nervous”.
We headed up the steps to the brother’s apartment, each with different feelings. My date: Concern. Date’s boyfriend: Confusion. Me: Curiosity and self-loathing.
The brother answered the door, hugged his sister tight and shook her boyfriend’s hand. Upon seeing me, his face transformed into bewilderment. He and I had one thing in common: We had no idea who I was.
OH BOY — more rescue dogs!!!! This time 2 Junkyard Rottweilers. I was proud to be greeted with chaotic snapping and barking. These were the sweetest rabid dogs I had ever met — and the brother said something fascinating about Chucky and Yo-Yo not knowing me yet.
The four of us ate tacos and drank wine, and the brother definitely seemed fragile. Tonight was an important night for him in some way. Would you like me to describe his vibe in one word? I’ll use ‘grave’.
The conversation was unpretentious — lighthearted dialogue RE: the best ways to prepare taco meat. I wanted to weigh in, but was highly unsettled by the brother’s stoic rage and piercing stare. He did not want me there on suicide night.
I’m pretty sure the brother downed 2 bottles of Syrah himself, my date drank 6 glasses, and my date’s boyfriend only drank 5 because he was driving.
Apparently less worried now, my date and her boyfriend headed to the couch, turned on an iPod, selected a track from Radiohead’s heroic ‘free’ album… and proceeded to make-out softly.
The bad news: This stung. My date, the coffee barista, was merely a stranger now… not a charming one. The good news: The brother found someone to talk to.
FINAL PART
Carpe Diem is a commonly used expression by those fearing the end. Every last drop of each day must be maximized and savored. If you say ”I’m a Carpe Diem kinda guy/gal”, people instantly comprehend your attitude and are perhaps a little inspired. But why isn’t there a familiar and accepted antonym for Carpe Diem? What if, come sunrise, you are straight-up pissed that father time is forcing a day upon you? Or despise the mere existence of yourself? What do you call that?
Whatever it is… my date’s brother can identify.
The first beat of our conversation: Pixar’s The Incredibles. If you, the reader, have kids — know that their love for The Incredibles is inferior to my date’s brother’s passion for this cartoon. The dialogue came about when I motioned to the framed red poster. He interpreted my line “Oh, you like The Incredibles?” as “If you’ve got a disturbed soul, now is the time to speak of it”.
To the brother, The Incredibles was robbed of an Oscar, should have a sequel, and acted as a passageway into the chamber of his angst. Topics he covered:
1. Everybody at his old job hated him.
2. Everybody at his new job hates him.
3. His job is boring, and only made worse by #2.
4. He hates himself.
The Incredibles was the only beacon of hope he had for humanity; a metaphor for something pure, special, and innocent; a direct contrast to the nefarious nature of everything else: Wall Street greed, BP Oil, crooked D.C., etc, etc, etc.
For clarity, please note that the above paragraph was HIS point, not mine. I thought he was fucking nuts, and was distracted watching my date slide her tongue across her boyfriend’s gums.
After twenty more minutes of commentary on “The State of Things — i.e. atheism, the death penalty, his mother, pesticides”, I just told him everything would be fine — and he appeared to take solace in that; perhaps because the trite advice came from a fresh source.
“Time to go”, I said, startling my date and her boyfriend. They giggled, as if they had been caught necking by the school’s vice principal.
Heading downstairs, my date said something I am still trying to decode. My intelligence simply can’t crack it, and I ask the reader for any and all input:
Earnestly, she turned to me, put a hand on my shoulder, and said… “Thanks for coming”.
The ride back was quiet, save for a little empty conversation and the pitbull.
The boyfriend slowed to a stop in front of my car. The night was over; this was all over.
The boyfriend turned to face me. I thought he would tell me off, say something to the effect of ‘This is MY girl, ya understand?’. But he said nothing so cinema-like, only asking “Is that it? (in reference to my sedan).
Then Coffee Girl twisted for goodnight mode. She said she hoped to see me again at the coffee shop. Given the circumstances, I decided I’d kiss her on the second date.
June 7th, 2010 at 12:05 pm
So if this is based on a true story, the only way it can continue is for her to call you back…right. Or are you going to go back to the coffee shop when she is working? Other than that, I am intrigued.
June 7th, 2010 at 3:01 pm
To the ‘better not tell my momma’ guy: She didn’t get his number, she got his call/email. I bet she’ll write back with her number and some kind of smiley faces. Creepy.
June 7th, 2010 at 6:05 pm
I don’t know what will happen. But I’m thinking of ordering the World Famous* “Mystery Bag” from Shoffee.com.
June 7th, 2010 at 6:20 pm
P.S. I certainly hope the protagonist does not re-visit the coffeeshop again anytime soon, regardless of if he hears back from the love interest. Either way, it’s awkward.
June 7th, 2010 at 7:18 pm
The scene before would be one similar to “Curb your Enthusiasm,” season 2 episode titled “Thor.”
Larry has a flat and is pleading w/ passersby, who are ignoring him, for help.
Larry David: (to various passerby) You know anything about changing a tire? Wanna help me change a tire here? No? I could use a little help. I need a little assistance. I never took a shop class, and I need a little help. Ok, I’m just coming flat out and saying ‘help me’. Anybody want to help a semi-retarded individual change a tire? 25, 30 dollars. 30 dollars to change this tire. 35 dollars to change this tire right now.
(People are ignoring him])
Larry David: I’ll give you 10 dollars for a verbal response. 10 dollars. Anybody want to make 10 dollars and respond verbally? No?
June 7th, 2010 at 8:20 pm
I hope she will email him back. Can’t wait until tomorrow.
June 8th, 2010 at 2:23 am
maybe she doesnt like thai… or thai people… or maybe she was disenchanted with your simple “how about thai?” response… i think you got her to respond the first time by questioning as to whether or not she was actually “fun”… perhaps if you kept it playful or playfully insulting as you did by questioning if that day was a fluke, you may have gotten the response you wanted … then again, maybe her cat was sick… it seems the world stops for those god damn things…
June 8th, 2010 at 10:39 am
Ha ha ha Yes I am the “don’t tell your momma I’m on Santa Monica guy” and yes smiley faces when you don’t know someone can be VERY creepy. As far as today’s post, I love the build in the story. Had me all anticipating and sh** only to be let down. The end of this story is typical. It saddens me that I had a familiarity to it. I think all guys have at one point. We’ll see what her excuse is.
June 8th, 2010 at 10:42 am
Nice preface, I’m interested to see what happens next.
June 8th, 2010 at 11:05 am
Bilgrad. First of all, Friendly and Down-to-Earth aren’t mutually exclusive characteristics. Secondly, this girl may have a really good excuse…she’s been a victim of computer theft or perhaps got trapped under something heavy. But either way she hasn’t been very KIND, and THAT is the most important thing. The kind thing would have been not to get your hopes up in the first place if she had no intention of being “friendly” past the first encounter. I hope she did get in an accident that rendered her fingerless and unable to type…and that as soon as her fingers are surgically attached, she does email you back. But if that doesn’t happen, maybe keep in mind that in our customer-service culture friendliness shouldn’t be taken personally.
June 8th, 2010 at 4:28 pm
I, like viper, am concerned that the reply to Coffee Girl’s being ‘down’, felt ‘off’. Even brevity can be too full of TRY (in it’s faux, ‘not’-trying). And why the presumptive offering of dinner (especially thai) which, – given the casual, ‘hang-out’ vibe both parties have initially signed-on for – feels a little like overreaching? Why not tool around the neighborhood and then hit up an arcade? (Are there arcades anymore? There should be.) Never underestimate the power of Ms. Pacman as a catalyst for romance. And think ‘montage’.
June 8th, 2010 at 10:03 pm
Up here in Seattle, it is a moral imperative to have a minimum of 2 coffee girl crushes. But we also have an unspoken rule of never asking out baristas, so good on her for coming to talk to you. That alone is a wonderful bit of, as you say, swagger-worthy happenstance.
June 8th, 2010 at 11:28 pm
I’m intrigued. Like your style. Don’t give up the writing or search
June 9th, 2010 at 7:32 am
Magic requires no work, just follow-through. If the barista fails to recognize the gift she was handed, it is her loss. L.A. is so full of rubble that the occasional gem may be obscured. Can you imagine how much rubble passes through a coffee shop? Can’t wait to see what happens next!
June 9th, 2010 at 10:50 am
You need to step up, to get your rep up.
June 9th, 2010 at 10:55 am
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ytCEuuW2_A
Dagger! I’m loving this story…nice work Bilgrad.
June 9th, 2010 at 11:01 am
Son of a *&#$%! If you’re going to leave cliffhangers at the end of every chapter, I’m going to have to call you ‘Dan Brown’. And for a writer of your skill, that, my friend, is an insult.
I was at Barnes & Noble on Monday and opened up a book entitled “Things I’ve learned from women who’ve dumped me”. Reading first tale in that book would do our softie protagonist some good.
June 9th, 2010 at 12:20 pm
Well, now you know why “charm” has lost its charm! Maybe the word “charming” has been replaced with the word “flakey?” Having lived in San Francisco in its more “charming” days, I’d say you are in for a wild ride!
June 9th, 2010 at 2:31 pm
Oh my goodness…..man this is good stuff. I can’t believe all this happened to you. It makes me wonder if you should’ve saved this for another film. Maybe for fantasy football next year. Have Jennifer play the barista. By the way, I sent it out to my coworkers and you’re receiving a lot of compliments. Keep up the good work.
June 9th, 2010 at 4:37 pm
that’s a funny way to describe flakey, i always thought of it as meaning that people brushed appointments off as one might flakes of dandruff…
June 9th, 2010 at 9:29 pm
This is good stuff. You haven’t changed a bit since college, if I was reading this without knowing it was you involved I would have said ‘that is how Bilgrad would’ve responded!’
June 10th, 2010 at 12:51 pm
Is everyone ignoring the most important part? You never take chances with a coffee shop. Good coffee shops are rare. It’s like hooking up with a neighbor. If something goes wrong, one of you has to move.
June 10th, 2010 at 1:16 pm
OMG! I mean it! Didn’t your mother tell to NEVER talk to strangers? Yikes! Get outta there while you can!
June 10th, 2010 at 1:28 pm
WHAT THE FUCK!!! i would rather have been forgotten at the restaurant than embark on this journey of painfully awkward moments… whoever these people are, it seems they didnt give one thought as to how you’d feel about this whole adventure… putting you in the back seat with an angry pitbull… FUCK YOU!! she should have mentioned that she had a boyfriend… it makes no sense for her to assume that you simply wanted company rather than to date her… and now she takes you to her alcoholic brothers house??? im sure he was ecstatic (as you said) to see a new face in one of his “supposed” darkest hours. i also wonder how she explained you to her boyfriend… great story!!! weird shit like this needs to be documented, but im fully ready to make my ruling on this girl… she is a bitch!! looking forward to the next installment…
June 10th, 2010 at 2:04 pm
Having lived to the ripe old age of 45 I’ve found there are certain immutable truths to social interaction in the new millennium. It’s comforting to me to see them reflected (reinforced?) in your story.
Yes, when I smile at a pretty girl at Starbucks, (my coffee shop of choice. Pretentious, I know, but I got a free gift card a year ago and I’ve been dumping money into it ever since like a crack head!) her hand reflexively reaches towards her purse. Whether to protect it from being snatched by the creepy smiley guy or solely because that’s where she keeps her can of Mace, I don’t know? This is especially disheartening to me because I find myself reluctant to venture into the whole “Social Networking” scene on-line. Let’s face it, at age 45; I’m just one “send” click away from having Chris Johansen showing up on my front lawn with a camera crew! What would the neighbors think then? I’m looking forward to seeing how this turns out for our protagonist. At my age, I can use all the help I can get!
June 10th, 2010 at 4:51 pm
Aaron…this is the best entertainment I’ve had all week. Can’t wait for the final installment. Leaning towards the same ruling as “chaosrace”.
June 10th, 2010 at 5:05 pm
*deep sigh* painful it is. Why would you put yourself through it? Isn’t there some shed of light at the end of this story or are you choosing to depress the shit out of us lol
June 10th, 2010 at 7:02 pm
dude, i am thoroughly enjoying this – kinda sorry tomorrow’s installment is the final one. great writing!!
June 11th, 2010 at 1:01 pm
This is fantastic- You need to write an epilogue! did you ever run into Coffee Girl again? btw I think her brother is Holden Caulfield grown up.
June 11th, 2010 at 1:30 pm
Wow and that’s how life is. Nothing cinema like. One big dud. Definitely an interesting story. And to think, what would your writing be if you didn’t have moments like these? Is this type of motivation that helps the gift in you shine. I don’t think I would of embarked on that adventure after you told me her man was in the car, but at least you’ve got a once in a lifetime experience. And BTW, stop wasting your f**king time with people who don’t give a sh*t about you. ok that’s all I got
June 11th, 2010 at 1:59 pm
You definitely get the “Turn Lemons Into Lemonade” award. That beats New Years Eve at my house hands-down! I laughed so hard, Aaron! I miss hearing your stories! It’s just too bad what you have to go through to get them. Can’t wait for your next one. Keep up the great work!
June 11th, 2010 at 3:17 pm
thanks for what, talking to her depressed brother so she could make out with her boyfriend… i dont even understand how she could say that to you!!! shoulda told her “you just lost a customer!” haha… i agree with jamie though, great inspiration for a great story, even if you would’ve dated this girl for years this story still would have been the best thing you could’ve gotten out of it…
June 11th, 2010 at 3:18 pm
Great story Aaron. If you would’ve made this into a short video and had “Life Goes On” narration, I think it would turn into a hilarious view.
June 11th, 2010 at 7:36 pm
Ha. Fun story. Def watched a date of mine make out with her boyfriend before. It’s a weird feeling. You sort of feel like a fig newton.
June 12th, 2010 at 10:36 am
An accurate description of one circumstance that makes most first dates a bust.
I kept reading hoping it would erupt into the boyfriend hitting on the author while the brother and sister discussed the family inhertance, or a fist fight between the three guys while our waitress adjusted her makeup. Something out of the regular bust!!!!
June 12th, 2010 at 11:29 am
move to new york already
June 12th, 2010 at 4:33 pm
“Truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just have to find the ones worth suffering for.” (Bob Marley)
At least in this instance, I doubt you ‘suffered’ too much. Which is good, cause she definitely wasn’t worth it. If anything, you probably got more of a laugh out of the whole thing – the comedic absurdity of it all – which is why you shared the story.
And now the search begins anew.
p.s. maybe the brother would have liked to play Ms. Pacman.
June 12th, 2010 at 5:54 pm
“I believe that love is a living thing, born into our destinies, from a single moment of inspiration. And as grows, it changes our lives forever.” (Stevie Nicks)
Maybe the point of the story isn’t that people suck and then you die, like I first thought. Maybe it’s like you said, Aaron, – that ‘you can’t win if you don’t try’. Granted that was before you went and got all crushed into humiliating smitherines, but you did raise the point. And if it had gone like a movie, like we were all hoping it would, maybe we could have all learned something positive.
In the movie version, first of all, there absolutely would have been an arcade montage…only it would have been with you and the brother; and then time would pass (you driving by her coffee shop on your way to other, empty shells of coffee shops) until one day, you get an email from her and she is saying she had found your story online, and thanking you for saving her brother’s life, and that she dumped her boyfriend months ago cause of course he’s a douche. She asks you to meet her at the (non-thai) restaurant from Act I, and this time she shows up. Early. and waits for you. only this time YOU don’t show up. It’s because of your sick cat. But she doesn’t know that. She thinks you’re getting back at her for what happened before. (and later, she doesn’t believe your ‘lame cat story’). Then more time passes, until one day, you run into her and her (now-upbeat) brother someplace outdoors and fun. Her brother suddenly has ‘someplace he’s gotta be pronto’, and with a looking-out-for-you-bro’ wink, he’s outta there. Within moments, you and Coffee Girl are laughing and eating something on a stick. Then some other stuff happens and FADE TO BLACK.
So I guess we all just need to keep the faith, and even though things may look grim for a while, there is always a chance for a happy ending. Or not (as demonstrated by the non-movie version) – but you won’t know if you don’t take a chance.
p.s. Of course your part was played by Ben Stiller.
June 12th, 2010 at 9:27 pm
June 14th, 2010 at 1:32 am
Can this guy have a TV show? I would totally watch it. More, more, more!!!
June 14th, 2010 at 7:15 pm
I have been involved in some odd situations before, but they takes the cake for sure. Maybe you need to come back to good old O’Town?! Sorry, for the story but Congrats on the writing.
June 14th, 2010 at 7:54 pm
Fabulous! Keep it up – both writing and taking chances. You won’t be sorry (and we won’t either).
June 14th, 2010 at 8:31 pm
Excellent! Great style. Unfortunately, I can relate! I have one question; if one is tardy more than once, are they “re-tardy”?
June 15th, 2010 at 10:56 pm
OMG ! Fantastic writing ! Loved it !
I’m sorry for your date, and all…
but the text is AMAZING !
congratulations !
June 16th, 2010 at 6:39 pm
Fresh!
June 20th, 2010 at 2:03 pm
Great writing, I really enjoyed reading it. One thing about dating or hanging out with new people that we meet. Is it good to tell a person straight off it you are in a relationship or not? To me, sometimes we just want to make new friends. Or it might be rude or narcissist to think if someone ask you out means they want to be with you or have sex with you. It is a gray area.
July 21st, 2010 at 2:12 am
Sorry i took so long to read it! That was pretty fucking funny. Great writing Aaron. Fantasy Football HURRY UP! START WRITING NOW!
November 3rd, 2010 at 2:53 pm
You were right – i’m glad i read this instead of hearing it in person at dinner back in August. Not that it wouldn’t have been as tragic and hilarious…only that i wouldn’t have been able to re-read certain lines over and over again. You’re a great storyteller, Bilgrad. Looking forward to Red Vengeance