
The Barista has a boyfriend and it is not The Attorney.
I knew she was crushing on one boy more than the others, but I didn't think it was the one that was flirting with her last week while I waited for my latte. I watched him try to reel her in, feel her out and encourage her about some sort of exam or test she was taking. I rolled my eyes. I was sure he was older than me and I was boring holes into the back of his aged head while I could see her beautiful twenty year old face over his shoulder. Pedophile, I thought. He didn't leave once he had his drink, instead lurking at the creamer station while I tried to speak to her with my eyes. She nodded to let me know that he was, in fact, one of them. I smiled, winked and told her to have a good weekend while she mouthed, "We'll talk later."
A few days later I walked in and asked if he was the "Meh, maybe" one.
"No, that was The Guy. I like him so much. He is the nicest guy I've ever dated." I tried to hide my surprise and keep from shaking the image of his disheveled look from my head.
"How old is he?"
"Thirty-one." I swore he looked older than me, but then again I was the one whose ID was not confiscated for scanning amongst the gaggle of six girls that went a-clubbin' on Halloween.
"What does he do?"
"He's a probation officer."
Good God. This is worse than I thought. He should know better.
She almost chirped as she told me how wonderful he was, how thoughtful, how he opens her doors and calls her to say hi. She stopped dating the other boys for this one, this probation officer that I was sure told someone in his life, "She's mature for her age," after they gave him a dirty look when they saw her lithe frame flit like a ethereal angel next to him.
It wasn't until the elevators opened and deposited me to my office did I realize why The Barista's boyfriend was not sitting well with me. He did make her his girlfriend. I'll give him that. The Attorney just wanted to sleep with her. I am not in love with the age difference, but we all need to date the older man. No, it wasn't any of those things.
She could do better. She just doesn't know it yet.
I hemmed and hawed over this idea in my brain. She's so pretty. He's so... hairy. She deserves someone different. A young entrepreneur, a budding architect. Someone who manscapes.
And, then I realized I was being silly.
Mr. J has often asked, "Why were you dating such a troll?" when he'd see pictures of my Exes. I'd look over the faces and remember the things that made me smile, "Well, Christian was the funniest guy I ever met and Sam was very charismatic. Jace was smart and Dylan was easy to hang out with. They were all silent killers. You never saw them coming, but one funny story or a day of movies and laughs and they would suddenly become more handsome to me." Mr. J thought that was sweet, "I like that you saw a person's worth and not their looks." I smiled, "Oh, I dated some lookers. Oddly, I have no pictures of them."
I never dated a devastatingly handsome man for very long. There wasn't much substance, no real connection, no glue to make me grab my camera to load a picture to my Myspace page.
Justin?
Well, the one time we ran into him Mr. J gawked, "Dude, that guy is good looking!"
I smiled, "He is." I looked at his perfect facial structure, his deep blue eyes, the square jaw that always makes me want to procreate. I realized Mr. J was used to seeing my ugly boyfriends and feeling superior and here he was being faced with the idea that I'd had hot sex with a guy who looked like hot sex.
"What happened?"
"We had the best first date I've ever had. Sushi, a little twilight mini golf at a golf course and I thought he could've been special. He's actually really smart. After a few dates we had sex and that was it."
"It was bad?" I could tell this thought made Mr. J very happy. He started to smile in a way I'd deem snarky.
"No, it was great. He just couldn't seem to find my phone number once he left my apartment. Or his fingers were broken. Not really sure."
"Oh."
Then there was Matthew McConaughey. He was a cross between the actor, an Abercrombie model and sex on a stick. I wish I had a picture of him to wave in front of Mr. J when he poses in a mirror and reminds me how lucky I am to have, and I quote, "A hot piece of ass," like him.
Yes, Matthew was tongue-tyingly gorgeous.
And, he was dumb as a box of rocks.
After I realized I couldn't answer his questions regarding a three page business plan he had me review, I thought it was time we should end our tryst. It wasn't that I couldn't answer the questions because they were too complicated. It was simply that using smaller words wasn't working and I was crossing over to condescending. He was looking sullen, I wondered if he knew how to spell his name on paper and the jack rabbit sex detracted from his full lips and blonde curls.
I will always wonder if his air freshener business ever really took off.
Justin and Matthew McConaughey would've been trophy boyfriends, husbands, what-have-you, but who really wants a trophy when your connection is dim? I just happened to trip over Mr. J and found both an ex-Abercrombie employee and active brain waves. How lucky am I?
And, how lucky is My Barista?
She has found a boy that escorted her to LA this weekend so that she can check out the law fair at Loyola. He thinks she will be a wonderful attorney and winked at her that day when I was staring at him in disdain. Something I will never do again. She shrugged her shoulders while she drizzled caramel on someone's whipped concoction and said that the entrance exams are tough. He smiled and shook his head, eyes sincere, "You'll get in. I know you will."
I know she will too.
The Probation Officer and I may not be there with her, but we already imagine her in power suits, freckled nose staring up at a judge. She will click click down hallways of justice in peep toe pumps. We're simply people she will meet on her way to become the version of herself she imagines while she steams milk and tells me that the pumpkin scone is a vegetable and therefore nutritious. She will have many other boyfriends, some that look like Abercrombie models, some that make her laugh and others that make her cry. She has many faces to meet, many stories to collect.
And, many hearts to break.