After mulling, worrying, fretting, and every other similar defeating action I decided that I would put aside the notions of asking Tessa on a date. I successfully reasoned with my self that, first – I did not need all this stress and anxiousness in my life and most certainly these feelings explain a subconscious omen to keep me from making a huge mistake. That is certainly reasonable. Secondly, I did not know enough about Tessa to ask her on a date or “just for coffee”. She could already be seeing someone or “her type” is anti-me in every way so that it reflects we would not get along in the first place. After all the anti-me would have to be an athletic, pompous, know it all, who is constantly looking at himself in a mirror and is a belligerent liar. (See, you now have a good idea of what type of person I really am.) Third, I am not interesting in the least which translates into when she asks me questions about myself I will stutter and give the deer staring into the headlights look which by severing any opportunity of a second date, relationship, etc.
Thankfully reason won out and now I felt a huge weight lift from my shoulders, heart and mind so I went to the café for a celebratory iced decaf Americano which reminds me of something I noticed recently. I have in the past couple months went to a Starbucks in the afternoon and evening and ordered a decaf coffee only for them to tell me that they do not make decaf at either time but if I want to wait four minutes they will brew me a cup – translating into a French Press concoction of strong dark brew that will actually peel my eyes back simply because of its strength. Now am I missing something here? I would think caffeine is something one should start adding to their daily intake by no later than 3 p.m. so exactly when do they make decaf coffee? In the morning?! When you need the caffeine – that makes absolutely no sense. Again, I digress….
I entered the coffee shop which was a bit slow in business at the moment (ever noticed the herd mentality in a coffee shop?) as a couple tables had people gabbing and the two squishy chairs were unoccupied. (Why is it that you hardly ever if ever at all here good ol’ classic rock and roll in these places?) I placed my order and they want your name – I provided my coffee alias as usual – Ian (sounds more classy and interesting than my real first name – why don’t parents ever consider this kind of stuff before naming their child?!). After a couple minutes I hear the worker exclaim “Ian – order’s up”. I grab the coffee, give “the nod” (you coffee drinkers know what I am referring to) and head to a squishy seat.