Dear Ian,
I got the job. I'm so proud of myself, I knew I could do it. This place isn't that bad, I visited the mall and I bought a life supply of ground coffee from Starbucks and books from Barns and Nobel. Hopefully these books will last me since I can't afford cable. It does have it's downfalls, considering that the closest grocery store is five miles away . Going to the mall made me feel closer to society. In Brooklyn, there was everything going on in the city, but in here it's just silence, excluding my noisy neighbors. I hardly spend time at my studio apartment anymore since my boss is generous enough to let me work overtime.
Sometimes I wonder if you feel the same as me when you serve your customers. I look at every date but I see no romance, no love. I'm the antagonist in their story because girls are insecure enough to hiss at anyone who's nice to their boyfriend. Even the people who just want to take their orders. I tell myself that the issue is their problem, not mine. I wish I could ask you for help. What do I do? Smile less? Step a few feet further from the booths? Don't make eye contact? I can't help but feel that I'm the third wheel. The good news is, I'm in charge of making the coffee now and I think we have our new customers favorite.
With love,
Dawn :)
YOU ARE READING
Coffee
Short Story"Let me guess, you want to order coffee again?" "You know it." "Something tells me the only reason you come to my diner everyday is for the free coffee, not me." "Shouldn't it be that way?" "Name one thing you love more than coffee." "You."
