Love Standards

Aubrey:

There I was, gripping the hottest cup of coffee known to man, frozen like a droplet of water that tried to drip down the side of an igloos window pane; and there he was. I caught his eyes, right past the young school teacher and blue collared real estate worker. What could have only been a few seconds seemed like an eternity as I sized him up; his burgundy vintage tee outlined his figure perfectly-sculpted, firm, broad.

"Excuse me, but I think you forgot something?" The school teacher clicked her tongue and the sound snapped me back into reality.

"I'm so sorry-I placed a lid on the Colombian blend-that will be $1.25."

She handed me exact change and seemed to move in slow motion away from the cash register as the suit made his way to the counter. He was getting closer.

"Uh, let me get a macchiato with caramel. Don't be cheap on the caramel."

Each movement I made was swift; the faster I finished this drink, the faster he would speak to me. I needed to hear what he sounded like. I imagined the syllables rolling off of his tongue like honey, rich, thick and smooth. I anticipated the shape that his lips would take saying vowels and stringing along consonants to form the symbols of my directions. Tell me.

"That will be $2.25." The suit placed a ten dollar bill on the counter as I handed him his steaming drink. I exchanged the bill for smaller ones and all the while, I tried to see through him. His wide chest made it difficult to see him. I could only make out a few strands of brown curls, dancing over the suits shoulders, who must have been at least 6'4".

"Here you go, have a good day!" The suit grunted and made his way to the door.

I could see him now.

He moved as if the air carried his weight; he was weightless. Each curl that grew atop his head danced, but made sure to avoid his big brown eyes. Now that he was closer, I could see a light shadow of hair aligning his jaw and when he smiled a dimple came out of hiding on his left check.

"Someone needs to teach that guy some manners."

"Huh?" I came out of the trance long enough to realize that he had spoken to me and like I imagined his voice box was obviously a honey comb.

"The tall guy wearing the suit, he was pretty demanding, no?"

"Oh, yes, he was, but I'm used to it. What can I get you?" He chuckled and it made me chuckle nervously.

What the hell is wrong with me?

"Well, I would like small breakfast blend, two sugars, hold the cream. Please and thank you."

I smiled, but I'm sure it must have looked like I had Botox injected into my cheeks. I fumbled around the counter looking for a cup, which was sitting directly in front of me, only to pour the wrong mixture of coffee and dump half a cup of cream into it! I could feel him watching me from the register and I immediately felt a heat spread throughout my face.

I can do this, you don't even know this guy and he's making you feel like an absolute ditz!

I finished preparing his coffee and turned around just in time to see one of the regulars, Danielle, preying on my mystery guy. She poked out her chest, shoving her large melons into my mystery guy's face. I almost slammed the liquid sludge on the counter.

"Hi Danielle, how's your boyfriend doing?" Danielle nearly snapped her neck when she turned to glare at me.

"Now, you know that I don't have a boyfriend, Aubrey." She reached up to play with one of her dark ringlets; the faster her finger twirled, the more I wanted to rip the damn thing off.

"Well, I just can't keep track these days. You know, Joey from next door came in her asking about you yesterday. You might want to give him a call; he seems desperate for whatever you're selling!"

Danielle opened her mouth, ready to make a retort, but shook her head instead and returned to her corner table.

"So, how much is that exactly?" The mystery guy held out a crisp five dollar bill; I almost forgot about the beautiful creature that stood before me and instantly I felt a hot blush spread across my face.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that-I blurted out-I'm not usually a mean person, but we have a long terrifying history; it would literally take hours of endless babbling for you to understand."

I reached for the five and our hands grazed, slightly, but just enough to send a shiver through my body. It must have went through him too because his eyes opened widely and grabbed my wrist with his free hand.

"That looks really good; are you a musician?"

"Huh?" I looked down at my arm, and his hand, touching it and I almost melted into the rubber, crumb filled floor mats.

"Yes, I am." He then, boldly, rubbed his pointer finger along the tattoo embedded on my wrist.

"I really like the work done; zero, eight, three, zero-what happened on that date?"

"Wow people usually don't realize that it's a date in music notation-they usually think they're just random notes," I smiled. I didn't care that I was blatantly flirting with a costumer; the man was speaking to my soul! "It's the date that I discovered my life's passion."

He nodded approvingly, "well, that's great! I'm a pianist; maybe someday we can jam and we could both babble for a couple hours over some coffee."

I couldn't believe it. Did he just ask me out? I finally pulled my arm out of his grasp and awkwardly tugged at the rim of my uniform cap. "That sounds, great?"

He laughed, "You were a little hesitant, it's fine if you don't think that we can be friends; here's my business card if you ever change your mind."

The card had a clear gloss on it. Daniel Wright: teacher, composer, freelance musician; possibly, my future husband.

"I look forward to hearing from you-now I've got to run, see you around!" He turned on his heels and began a slow stride towards the door. I watched him until I could no longer see past the hand-print stained glass that read, Café Noir De Brooklyn. I watched until Danielle's smug face snagged my attention.

Then I realized that I hadn't even charged him.