कॉफी रेफिल्ल्स

Okay, so do you remember my telling you about the cutest girl ever who worked at Bunna? Well, I'm renaming her (she used to be tagged on here as Coffee, but I recently misused that tag to reference the actual drink, so the change is necessary). I'm going to call her Buster, in reference to Buster from Arrested Development who studied Cartography. This makes sense because she is taking a cartography class right now. Amazing. She is a geography major. In love.

Okay, sooooo, I hadn't seen her in a long time (more or less since I had moved to Tempe from Gilbert, as she had suggested I might like this new coffee shop called Cartel Coffee Lab). What I mean is that I used to go to Bunna, then I stopped because I found that Cartel is amazing. I would still every so often go to Bunna just to flirt with Buster, but she was never there.

About a month ago maybe I was at Cartel and she walked in. Heart stops. She's STILL the cutest girl ever, in case you were wondering. She actually recognized and remembered me, which was fun for me. We spoke for a second and my flaming desire to be engulfed in her fiery embrace was once again doused with the most flammable of combusting liquids. I mean to say that my crush was uncrumpled and recrushed. I liked her again, in other words. However, at that time, things with Roadrunner were just starting to get interesting, so I wrote it off to chance for a second.

She came in again a week or two later and the same thing happened and I decided that if things with Roadrunner didn't work out, she'd be my next big interest.

Fast forward to yesterday.

My car broke down on the way to Sedona/Flagstaff. I had to come back. I didn't tell anyone this, but I felt like there was something that I needed to be here for and that's why maybe my car didn't let me get to Oak Creek. I mean, camping would have been fun, but I would have missed something while I was gone.

Fast forward to today.

I'm sitting in Cartel drawing in my sketchbook. I've been there for a few hours at this point, having no where else to be and not a car to get there in. I look up when the door opens and a vaguely familiar silhouette moves into the room. As she moves closer, the lights wrap around her and reveal her face, complete with new haircut. She walks over and says hi. I compliment her new style. She smiles and asks if she can see what I'm drawing. I hand her the stack of my already finished drawings, since those were better than the one I was working on. I admit that "these are less embarrassing." We talk, and then someone opens the door so I suggest that she get in line, lest she be waiting there forever. I say that I'll stand with her, and she agrees. She orders. She gets her drink. We talk about where she lives. She says that she lives on Mitchell. I mention that that is the same street that Mucho Gusto is on. She says that she has never been there. I say that it is tasty, but expensive. I relay story of Adam almost ordering a $15 bean and no cheese burrito. We laugh. She says that her friends all tell her that she'd like it, but she has just never gone. I say, "Would you like to go with me?" or something like that. She says sure. I pat my pockets adorably and say, "...the one time in my life that I don't have a pen on me...let me get your number." I offer one of my colored markers and the first page of my sketchbook. She doesn't want to draw on one of my drawings. I tell her it's okay, the page is just a protective page for the next page which has an actual drawing on it. She says okay and writes her cutest number in the world. She has a foreign area code. We talk about where she's from. She goes to class.