One of the perks of where I worked was the Starbucks in the building lobby. Not because of the convenient coffee, although that was nice, but because of Amanda. The world's hottest barista...in my humble opinion. She was small, almost no tits but a juicy butt. Her hair was dark and straight and always pulled back in a tight ponytail through her cap. She'd started there about a year before and we'd developed a little workplace friendship: more and more familiar hellos; bigger smiles; inside jokes. Now she'd spot me before I even got in the door and start my drink. And she never wrote my real name on the cup anymore. It was always something silly and nonsensical, like Jofilba or Phlembot.
It was Friday afternoon and I needed that one last jolt to keep me going through work and the gym after, so I went down for coffee. Amanda closes on Fridays, so her shift was just starting. I spotted her through the window and gave a wave, and she smiled in reply. Then I got on line, which was pretty modest for a Friday. Someone bumped into me; I turned to look. It was a luscious mixed-race girl, about my age, curvy and crazy-haired...
"Oh, sorry," she said. Her broad smile softened me, and I smiled back.
My mind quickly returned to Amanda, the real purpose of my visit. But before I could steal another glance at my queen barista, I felt the heat of the woman behind me: she was standing much too close. While I was assessing this awkward positioning, I could have sworn she sniffed me. So I turned again; and I got the same broad smile again. Something weird was going on. I glanced behind her, just a couple other people...not a long line pressing, no reason for her to be in this close. But who cares, right? I mean, better a hot woman is paying some form of attention to me than ignoring me. Besides, I was here to look at Amanda, not be distracted by strangers. And when I looked over, Amanda was looking right at me. She cocked her head a bit, as if I'd said something she couldn't make out. So I leaned my head back slightly and looked right, trying to indicate to her how close this woman was so I could talk to her about it when I got my cup. She seemed to understand. She nodded and smiled, then went back to work, writing on a cup with her Sharpie.
Unfortunately, there was a second, completely unnecessary barista working, which meant crazy lean-in lady's coffee was ready seconds after Amanda called my name, so I wasn't gonna be able to talk about her right away. I smiled and thanked Amanda, then tried to make some small talk. But proximity girl lingered! She got some whipped cream, a second cup, ice cubes...I had to get back to work, so the story would have to wait til Monday, by which time it would be more stale and uninteresting than the bran muffins hardening in the display case. I wished Amanda a good weekend and was on my way.
Standing before the elevator doors, I half-expected to feel the heat of the woman again. I shook my head at that, but then stole a quick look. All clear.
Alone on the elevator, I took a long drink of the coffee, to which Amanda had added the perfect amount of cream to bring the temperature to a still-warm but drinkable-right-away level. Then I pulled down the sleeve and scanned the cup to see what silly name Amanda wrote that day. But there wasn't a name. She'd written something else. And when I read it I choked on the coffee and coughed it out onto the elevator floor.
"I close at 8. Come fuck me."
Despite being alone in the elevator I shoved the sleeve up to cover the words. My brain supernova-ed at the countless possibilities. I'll save you the details. Suffice it to say I got no more work done, burned through my typically hour-long workout in 35-minutes, spent the extra time in a cold shower, regretted not packing cooler underpants, decided to ditch the underpants altogether, and wore out the carpet in my office as I paced away the final minutes until 8.
Holy. Fucking. Shit. This was it.
I tried to be fucking awesome and casual and showed up about 8:05. Didn't want to seem eager even though I was 100% eager. Eager was coursing through my veins. I could piss eager. The shop was dark but there was light coming through the edges of the door to the back room. I gave a firm but hopefully not too eager knock on the glass.
Deep breaths, deep breaths I said to myself.
The door swung and I was hit by the bright light. And when the door swung closed, she was standing directly in front of me, only a sheet of glass between us.
Not Amanda. The lean-in lady, with a huge grin on her face, sized me up from the Amanda side of my would-be fantasy. What the fuck was going on? And really, most importantly, was I still going to be fucking Amanda at some point tonight?!
It was muffled, but I heard "You should see the look on your face" and then her laughter. So she knew. She knew why I was there. She knew I was expecting Amanda and that's why I was surprised to see her. Okay...but, still, what the fuck is going on?
The woman stepped over to the door and unlocked it. She opened it, but just a few inches.
"Before you come in, read this." She handed me a Starbucks cup. It read: "Hi Phlembot, If you do EVERYTHING Eva tells you to WITHOUT HESITATION, you will get what you came for. ;) Amanda."
Wow. I re-read the words a couple times, just trying to process everything. Then I retreated into logic, my default position. This was win-win. Assuming Eva wasn't a psychopath who was going to murder me, I'd be having an intense sexual experience with her. And she was sexy as hell. And enduring that would then lead to me fucking someone I've wanted to fuck for over a year, someone I'd jerked off thinking about countless times.
