I have a not-so-secret affinity for stellar baristas. Not so much into the risqué bikini/naked baristas though. Though I work for Starbucks (twice now), I have yet to find a better barista than all the girls at Cutters Point in good ol’ Port Orchard. Initially I went because the girls were cute and the drinks were made to be amazing… To this day I still go because the girls are cute and the drinks are amazing, but I have continued to go because the service is more than I’ve ever expected out of anyone. They treat me better than past girlfriends have. It’s cool as hell that I can be gone for nine months or more and when I come back into town, they not only still know me by name, they know my drink to a tee.
So that’s the skinny on my love affair with my coffee girls.
The last time I went through, one of the girls (name withheld) asked what I was up to, blah blah blah… I told her about moving to California. Nothing more than simple conversation about how the weather is better and there’s more to do… As I got ready to leave she said to me “I hope you find what you’re looking for.” It was spoken in a tone that I would expect from a heartbroken friend or lover that has more than a simple opinion about my life choices. That moment has stuck with me and I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.
Last night I was pleasantly surprised to hear from someone in my past. This is a person much more familiar with me than the coffee girl yet provoked something in me that I haven’t given enough attention to. She also offered condolences saying ‘Good luck’ in regards to finding what I am looking for. It’s a curious thing that I’m looking for though.
Won’t lie, I’d love to find ‘the one’ for me. But I’m over that notion for now. I’ve tried in my own special way to express interest in creating something more with plenty of girls. Just as I have certain things I’m looking for, I understand others have expectations and desires that I simply don’t fit into. Trying to figure it all out gets old. So I’ve given up on trying to find something meaningful with someone else.
What I’m looking for is really something that no one else really gives a shit about. It’s all about me. So much to the point that as I write this, I wonder why I even share it. A cynical twist I know but maybe it has to do with the fact that I’m waiting in the lounge at the trucking terminal to finish my last load. The load ass pigs aren’t getting my creative juices flowing to share something a little more meaningful… I’ll write more from the road… Just a few more days and my life starts… again…