Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Farewell, Barista

There are three main coffeeshops I got to. Which one depends on the time of day -- in the morning I have one, in the afternoon I have another, and late at night I have a third.

I love My Morning Coffeehouse because of the girls who work there. There were two of them who worked every morning. When I worked nights and wanted to ease into the morning and sleep, it was always great to see those two. They were chippy, they were cute, and most important of all, they were always there.

Well, I lost that job four years ago, and although I've come in sporadically enough that they remembered my name, it wasn't the same. I hadn't been there in some time, maybe a couple months, when I came in a week or so ago. I asked the one girl why I hadn't seen the other girl there the last two or three times I popped in for coffee (meaning it had been several months since I last saw the other girl).

"Oh, she quit," she said. She did it around Christmas. There was a chance I could have seen her if I came in sooner. But she took another job.

She was cute and nice, and she was my masseuse when she worked as one --no, not that kind, the clean one, a reputable one, you pigs! I'm sorry to see her go. Well, not see her go.

I miss her. Terribly.

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