Fan Mail

I received this story from a guy who saw the article in the Portland Daily Sun. Some names have been changed. I guess the blog could use a man's perspective, so here you go:

It's a cold winter day in Burlington, Vermont and I am in the middle of my shift at Speeder and Earl's coffee shop. At the time, I was managing two shops, as well as the roastery and was looking forward to my first day off in weeks. As I am making someone their beverage, I glance over to the entrance and see a stunningly beautiful girl walk in. I held her glance much longer than normal- not only was she gorgeous, but I didn't recognize her. At that time of the year 99% of our customers were regulars. When she gets to the counter to order, I notice she has a name tag from across the street. Her name is Chloe. My lame attempt at humor went something like this:

"Hello! My name is Steve, I will be your barista for the next 45 seconds to 1 minute what can I get for you?" I was expecting either a polite chuckle or an eye roll, but got a full on guffaw. We both proceeded to make coy small talk. She told me that she just moved to town a week ago. That sounded the internal guy alarm- it was time to storm the beach. As I gave her back her change, I informed her that Burlington just became a much better place with her presence. She blushed as she walked away, and turned around twice to wave goodbye. I decided right then and there that I was going to go across the street after work and ask her out. I could have waited until she comes in again,  which was probably a better idea, as to not seem desperate. But since she was brand new, I didn't want to wait for the other sharks to circle, so after work it was. The last 3 hours of my shift took forever. As I am cashing out, I hear a knock on the front door. I figured it was one of the many stupid customers who don't realize that even though the door is locked, the place might be open for 'them'. It was Chloe. I tried to suppress my insta-huge smile but failed. My walk to the door was probably more of a sprint than it needed to be. When I opened the door she uncomfortably said, "Hi, umm,,,,this is a little awkward for me....I'm not used to doing this but...."  I decided to cut her off and ease some of her embarrassment. (Awesome.)

"Never mind that, why don't you let me take you out for drinks and perhaps dinner tonight." She relaxed immensely and concurred that would be a good idea. We joked and made small talk while I finished closing up the shop. As we were walking down the street to our restaurant of choice, I ran into an old friend that I had not seen in over 2 years, who happened to be female. This is where things start to go bad. Chloe stood there with her arms folded tightly and just glared at my friend as if she had just kicked her cat. She let out at least two hmmmphs. When my friend departed, we continued down the street, but the energy and vibe had changed significantly. The flirty, sexual tension was replaced by a cloud of potential confrontation. She went from chatty Cathy to short, clipped, one word responses. This is where, in hindsight, I should have asked her right then and there what exactly was the problem. Waiting until we got to the restaurant was a bad idea. I decided we would have a drink at the bar before getting a table. I ordered us drinks. Looking at this angry girl, I decided to ignore her obvious mood and make like we are out to have a good time. This was thwarted with, "Did you fuck her!" This was said much louder than necessary. It stopped the other conversations around us dead in their tracks.

"Ummm, excuse me?"

"DID YOU FUCK HER!!" 

I turned to the bartender and told him to cancel her martini and just get my magic hat. She asked why I was cancelling her drink and I told her that it was because I was going to have a drink and enjoy myself and didn't need her see you next Tuesday attitude to ruin it. Now, considering how she overreacted to my lady friend, I should have known better than to deliberately provoke her. She grabbed a drink of the person sitting next to her and threw it at me while calling me a bunch of rated R type words. The owner came around and tossed her out and told her never to come back. I apologized for her and had my beer. You are probably thinking that I didn't handle it as maturely or as civil as I could have, but why waste my time trying to explain myself to someone I just met? Who in the world did she think she was to interrogate me like that? I know quite a few guys that would have done anything to appease her because of the hottie factor and three months down the road would be in a miserable controlling relationship.

I believe this story is 100% true, based on the details of the geography of Burlington, having lived there myself. I believe this girl was probably hot, and therefore bat-shit crazy. One of my coworkers, who also bartends on Wharf Street, told me he's figured out there is a direct hottness:craziness ratio. The hotter the girl, the crazier she is.  The only thing missing from this story, which from my perspective is REALLY interesting, is that Steve never actually specifies whether he did sleep with that girl. Which makes me think yes, he probably did.