What if my name was Blueberry?

I had a choice to make. It was really, really hard, because it would probably affect my entire life. But, I did have to make a choice. It would not be easy. I felt my heart starting to beat faster, sweat prickled my forehead and I bit my lip, so I wouldn’t scream out in frustration. This choice had to be made, but I did not know if I could make the right one.

“Miss!” I was startled out of my thoughts of life-and-death matters, by the guy behind the counter. “Just pick one, please.”

I pouted. “It’s hard. What if I pick one and it’s no good? I’ll regret it immediately and wish I had picked something else. And that could ruin my day and this could turn out to be the most important day of my life, so my whole life would then be ruined. All because I chose the wrong one. Would you really like that to happen to me, just because you rushed my decision? Would you, Simon? Huh?”

He gave me a look that clearly stated that I had lost it. “Hon”, he said slowly, as if talking to a child. “It is just a muffin.”

“Just a muffin? A muffin? Are you aware of exactly how many flavors there are? I mean, there are vanilla, strawberry, chocolate, pecan, hazelnut, nougat, white chocolate, cherry, banana, blueberry, toffee, cappuccino, there’s even one with licorice, right there. And not to mention all the frostings! The list goes on and on. This is not just a got-one-pick-one situation. This is a seriously difficult decision, Mr. Behind-the-Counter.”

He sighed again. “Well, do you know what kind of coffee you want, then? Or is that ‘a seriously difficult situation, as well?”

I blinked at him. Was this guy for real? I shot a glance at my buddeli-bud next to me, but she just looked bored, as usual. I looked back at Behind-the-Counter-Simon. “No. Black, of course.” As if you could actually drink it any other way.

He gave me another of those you’re-a-crazy-girl-and-you-know-it-look and then went to pour my coffee.

I looked behind me. Oops, it was quite a line. Maybe I should just pick a muffin and risk miserableness for the rest of my life. A guy in his forties caught my eyes with a death glare. Oops, someone needed their caffeine intake.

“Jo.” I turned to my bored buddy-bud-bud. “What should I pick?”

“Blueberry”, she said, picking her prefect nails.

Hm, blueberry is nice. Very, very nice… “What makes you think blueberry?”

She still didn’t look at me. “’Cause you always pick blueberry.”

“Ah… Gotcha.” I pointed friendly at her. Not that she noticed.

About the time we got out of the café, the sun was beating down quite hard. Jo had already finished her double-latte macchiato and tossed it in a nearby garbage can and pulled down her sunglasses from her forehead. Hey, at least she thought about the environment. I walked beside her, munching on my delicious muffin. Whoever invented muffins should get a prize. And the one who was genius enough to but blueberries in them, I would like to kiss. On the mouth. With my blueberry-tasting lips. Yum.

Jo looked at me over the rim of her glasses. “Enjoying you muffin, cupcake?”

“Whum-mum-wham-mam”, was my obvious answer to that.

She shook her head. “Good for you. Now, can we get to work, so Noah won’t fire me?”

I almost choked on my yummy-mummy muffin, because that was just hilarious. I swallowed. “Noah? Fire you? Right. And which universe will you be heading home to later?” She wouldn’t look at me, but she walked faster, a suspiciously red creeping up her face. “Oh, come on. You know that guy has his hots for you. And you have your hots for him. Just admit it. I will be a bridesmaid at your wedding, I promise.”