EXES AND OH'S

You Can't Always Get What You Want

It's just a few minutes past nine AM yet I feel like dozing off already. Kurt and I hung out all day through night yesterday. We just busted each others' balls and laughed our asses off with different and random things about life. Before we knew it, it was already two in the morning, so I finally kicked him off my couch. But I told him we'll hang out again later after I got home from work, and after he finishes his shift from the downstairs 7-11 — which is, apparently, owned by his dad.

I pushed the glass door open to the really posh coffee shop-slash-restaurant near our office building. I get in and indulge my nostrils to the heavenly aroma of freshly ground and roasted coffee beans. I caught a glimpse of my reflection at the huge floor to ceiling mirror, and stare at myself for a minute: black skinny jeans, black cropped sweater, and black ankle boots. Do I look drab? Nah, I look cute. Even the dark circles under my eyes completed my outfit and my poppin' dark purple matte lipstick.

I walk to the counter and fall in line to order my tall cup of coffee. And yes, I like mine black. I'm not like one of those people who pray to the barista before they get their morning fix: 'I'll have an Austrian goat milk double-half-caf-half-decaf-soy milk cappuccino - extra hot - with a dash of Madagascar cinnamon - and half tablespoon of caramel-latte-frappa-mocha... and keep the change. You look like you could use a haircut, hippie. Amen.'

Seriously, fuck that.

"Thank you." I mouth to the cute barista as he handed me my order. See? Plain and simple. That didn't take two minutes. I turn around and was about to head out when I see a tall, familiar, awkward figure by the end tables.

Dan. 

Huh. I know he was asked by our other boss, Isaac Leibowitz, to grab tea and sandwiches. And yes, I know, Isaac's like an old British lady who loves tea and sandwiches cut into small triangles. Oh, and he loves Downton Abbey too. What a fancy, pretentious lad. 

Anyway, that was almost an hour ago. It seems like he's been waiting here for quite some time now. I eye Dan's table and see that he already got Isaac's orders, and it certainly looks like it's been ready and sitting there since Brutus stabbed Caesar. 

Dear God. What does he plan to do with that room-temp tea now? Put it in the microwave? Ugh. Isaac will definitely bite Dan's stupid ass for breakfast. I can't believe Jesse offered this snail-paced, dead-from-the-neck-up dude a regular job at Aperture.

I walk toward Dan's table, and he doesn't seem to recognize me until I was two feet away from him. God, how thick does his eyeglasses need to be for him to see properly? They're already as thick as Agatha Christie's The Complete Miss Marple Book!

"Hey!" I give Dan a light smack in the head and he winces after two solid seconds. Screaming Christ on a roller coaster. This kid's dendrites and synapses have a delayed reaction, too. 

"Ow!" He looks up at me, seemingly confused and startled, his nose crinkled and his eyebrows meeting in the middle of his forehead. "Ch-Charlie?" He stutters and his eyes widen in panic.

"Damn right, it's me!" I take the seat opposite him and place my coffee on the table. "What the fuck are you still doing out here? Isaac told you to get that for him forty-five minutes ago!"

"Uh, yeah, I'm... I'm already headed out, I was just—"

"What? You're waiting for the Armageddon?!"

"Yeah, kind of." He looks up at me and grits his teeth, seemingly shy all of a sudden. "No, I'm waiting for my little ray of sunshine."

I close my eyes for a second and shake my head, thinking if I was imagining what Dan had just said. "Your little what?"