Thursday, March 19th, 2009
There’s a barista at the Starbucks I go to that is one of those people that you feel like you know from somewhere, but can’t put your finger on it and they always look at you knowingly, expectantly, like any minute you’ll remember who they are. But I never do.
She’s… unusual, I guess, is the best way to say it. Very friendly, but definitely an odd duck. She seems somewhat goofy when I talk to her, like I make her nervous. She seems to try really hard to be funny or clever and she often is a bit ‘familiar’ with me, which is why I always wonder if maybe I know her from somewhere.
For example, the first time I ordered from her went a little something like this…
Her: May I help you?
Me: Yes, I need a quad Venti extra hot soy cinnamon dolce latte, light whip, no foam, please.
Her: Do you need it or do you want it?
Me: *blink blink* I’m sorry, what? Oh… (insert courtesy laugh here) Sorry, I would like…
I laughed it off and dismissed it as an employee building rapport with their customer. Fine, fine. But then she did it two more times when I came in. I finally started skipping the pretense altogether and just saying the drink order so I don’t have to do that dance again.
She makes me a little nervous, to be honest, because of these weird exchanges, so I just smile and laugh and try to be friendly. She asked me point blank once, “Why are you laughing?”, while laughing herself then her eyes would look all around like a googly-eyed bobble head with a big grin. Now she’s taken to calling me “Giggles”. Giggles. And the other baristas have started writing it on my cup.
It’s gotten to the point now that I groan a bit inside when walk in and see her at the register. It makes me feel bad because I’m sure she’s a perfectly nice girl and she’s just trying to be friendly, but it makes me… uncomfortable, I guess. It doesn’t feel flirtatious, it feels insecure, like maybe she’s shy and overcompensating. You know in movies where the nerd talks to the cool kid and says completely dorky things that sound cool in their head, but come out like they ate paint chips as a kid? That’s usually me. I was always the nerd (at least in my own head), but this time, it’s like I’m the cheerleader or the football jock or whatever and she’s about to ask me to homecoming.
I hope she doesn’t read this blog, though it’s entirely possible. I ran into a girl I’d only seen on Flickr at Bath & Body Works once. And a girl at the grocery store asked me if I was Tenth Muse a few years back. So, its totally possible and I really wouldn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.
It’s so odd. I’d be flattered if it didn’t make me feel like she might boil my bunny.