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Barista Boy

Sex in a cup

Can’t you ask me out

Instead of “Wassup?”

“Barista Boy”

Written by Heather Wells

The guy behind the counter is checking me out No, really

He’s hot, too Well, in a twenty-year-old barista kind of way I bet he plays the guitar I bet he stays up way too late at night, struht shadows under his long-lashed green eyes, and the way his curly blond hair is sticking up in spikes all over his head Bed head No ti Just like me

“What’ll it be?” he asksyou out

I know I’ out because there’s no one in line behind me

Well, and why shouldn’t he check ood I h my bulky winter outerwear, anyway I fully put on(unlike Barista Boy, I like to disguise my undereye circles) And ith my parka, you can’t see the four—well, okay, ten—pounds I put on over the holidays Because who counts calories when it’s Christmas? Or New Year’s? Or after New Year’s, when all that Christet in shape again for bikini season

And, okay, I’ve been telling myself that for the past five or six years, and I still haven’t actually tried it yet—getting in shape for bikini season, I mean But who knows? Maybe this year I have two days of vacation due too to Cancún And, okay, just for the weekend But still

So what if I’ht—years older than Barista Boy? I’ve still got it Obviously

“Grande café mocha, please,” I say I’m totally not into foamy drinks hipped crea seht!), and it’s really cold out and supposed to blizzard later, and Cooper left thison the coffeeo out because it was so cold, so I’ll probably find a nice surprise froet home, and I REALLY need a little pick- so sorry for myself

Plus, you know, as long as I’o for the gold

“One grande caféone of those flippy things with un and he’s an outlaw in a western

Oh, yeah He definitely plays guitar I wonder if he sits around writing songs he can never work up the guts actually to perfor his songwriting talent, like I am?

No He’s got the guts to get up in front of a croith a guitar and his own lyrics I mean, just look at him