Cheeky

№ 6. Coffee Pimp

I had walked back from the club and it was already pretty dark outside. The temperature had dropped drastically and my brain was rattling from how intense my teeth were chattering. I had tucked my hands away underneath my armpits and walked slowly on my death traps of shoes; I swear to god, whoever made heels should be murdered.

My calves were aching, and my head was beginning to pound. Everything was just spinning so fast and I felt as though I couldn't catch up no matter how hard I ran. No job, no friends and already an overwhelmingly bleak outlook on my life abroad, I was beginning to wonder if this was the right move.

But it was too early to tell. I needed to give this whole college thing some more time. That's right, time would be the best medicine in this situation and as Brett would say, just go with the flow. I had already left the bridge that led up to my apartment but realized that I had mistakenly made a left and had already walked for several blocks.

I guess my body knew what it wanted; some time alone to collect my thoughts. But every time I was alone, I would think of him. He who shall not be named. Yeah, I like the sound of that. I need to forget that he ever even had a name to begin with and eventually, I won't even remember if he existed at all.

I stared ahead with a grim gaze and tight lips, wondering if forgetting him would really solve my problem of heartache. After all, I spent the first few months hating him, imagining some gruesome situations. Then the next couple of months were wasted on fantasizing about confronting him while looking drop dead gorgeous.

Or having him stand all night outside my window with a boombox blasting, like John Cusack although good 'ol John, aka Lloyd, had the balls to do it in broad daylight. Oh how I wished things were that corny and simple. What I wouldn't give to be yearned for or chased after. All that Hollywood cookie cutter romance was making my stomach sick and my mouth went dry.

I needed some water and I looked on the opposite side of the street, squinting to read the signs of shops that were poorly lit under dim street lamps. The river looked pitch black on my left and remembering the incident from earlier, I hastily crossed the street to get to safety. A block further down was a familiar looking shop, and as I grew closer the letters came into view.

I spoke to myself, uttering "Gary's Roast." That's right! I still needed that job and the place was still open, surprisingly. There were only a couple customers inside and I swung open the door a little too quickly, practically loosing my footing on my five inch stilts.

In that instant, a blast of intensely roasted coffee hit me and I inhaled deeply, comforted by the first familiar thing I've encountered all day. Back home, coffee shops and baristas were everywhere, practically a culture on their own. I loved coffee, knew quite a lot about it too from Emma when she got me a job at the local coffee hangout not too far from the beach. I would churn out espressos, cappuccinos, lattes, and anything else a coffee lover's heart could desire, on a daily basis. This had to be my job - I was perfect for it.

I took a look around, smiling at the plush sofas and armchairs that dotted the floor and the various shelves of books that lined the walls. In the middle was a tall, extensive counter with massive coffee machines and one, lone rusty looking register that sat to the side. A large slate menu hung over head, everything written in colored chalk and I went over the list of beverages.

A lot of iced and brewed teas, not too many signature or even common coffee drinks to begin with. My forehead creased as I wondered what kind of coffee shop this could be if they hardly served coffee, but approached the counter nonetheless.

There was nobody there, and I tried looking over the machines to see if there was a hidden employee. Maybe they're playing hide and go seek, or two are getting it on on a sack of coffee beans in the back. Ooo, coffee shop soap opera - now  that would be fantastic. There was suddenly a rustling from below the counter and I peeked over the edge to see a bottom bobbing about.