I wish this would have happened a day before, or two days after the Red Sox beat the Rays to punch their ticket to the ALCS. I kind of feel obligated to write about their domination, but I CANNOT risk forgetting this story by researching stats/facts. However, the Sox do play a critical role in this story, because I stayed up into the whee hours of the morning watching every second of the 3 hour and 49 minute plus game. With that being said, I present to you the comical, yet tear-jerking (not in a good way) story of what happened to me this morning. “Get the popcorn ready, honey!!”:
“Wake up in the morning, feeling pretty shitty” (read to the tune of Ke$ha’s TiK ToK). My alarm was set for 7:04 AM, and it took me 30-minutes to muster up enough strength to finally get out of bed. I got in bed around 1:00 AM the previous night, but didn’t fall asleep for another half hour or so due to my level of excitement from the Red Sox beating the Rays.
Anyways, fast forward to when I actually get to work around 8:30 AM. Before I can even get to my desk, equipped with water-front views (no, really), I was pulled in to this lady’s office. I was assigned the task of picking up cupcakes to celebrate a colleagues birthday (the norm in the office). Due to my sleep-deprived self, I must have asked how many cupcakes I needed to get at least 5 times. When I was finally able to grasp the easiest part of the job, I put my stuff down, and headed back to the garage. This is where the fun begins.
The cupcake place, which was actually a coffee shop, was about a 5-minute drive away. When I parked in the parking lot, I couldn’t help but realize how amazing it felt outside. According to my meteorological calculations (sight and feel), it was cloudy and in the high 50’s; perfect weather. The coffee shop was on this enchanting little corner of a newly built development. As I casually walked to the door, I thought to myself, “how cuh-ute is this place?!” Upon arrival, I was greeted by this precious little girl who just stared at me wide-eyed until I opened the door (can you say “show stopper”?). I greeted her with a smile and a “scoooooze ME!” as her mom pulled her out of the way.
When I got to the register, there were three employees working. One was on the phone taking a customer’s order, and the other two were assisting the in-store customers. (Sorry to break away from the pleasant scene you’re building up in your mind, but some BITCH cut in front of me while I was there, and I don’t take too kindly to that behavior). When I finally got to the front, one of the two employees went to the bathroom, so a line starts forming behind me. I politely ask for a dozen and a half cupcakes, and the girl tells me she has to go to the back and get them. Let the waiting begin.
As the line behind me grows bigger and bigger, I stand there eyes glazed over due to lack of sleep. Typically I would get that “uncomfortable/nervous” feeling; you know, the one that results from knowing everyone behind you is thinking, “Wow, what the hell did this guy order? Could his order take any longer?” Wait, you don’t know what I’m talking about? Well…cool. Anyways, while waiting, I couldn’t help but notice there was another adorable little girl two spots behind me, standing with her babysitter/aunt/mom (although I doubt it was her mom, because she seemed pretty young, but this is America – home of the unusual, so I put it in the list of possibilities). While this 3-4 year old girl is standing there, she is just amazed by this die (singular form of “dice”). She keeps rolling it, and saying “Ask me how many black dots are on this side!” The babysitter/aunt/mom then asks, and the little girl proceeds to yell out the exact number. She’s got valedictorian written all over her.
Then, the unthinkable happens! The die rolls off of the little tray she was playing on and near my feet. I bend down to pick it up, and start walking over to the little girl to give it back. She stands there, still as a board, as nervous as I would have been like I previously stated (thank you for sleep-drunkenness). I bend down, stick my hand out, and she takes it out of my hand. The babysitter/aunt/mom smiles and says, “Now what do we say?” and the little girl lets out the sweetest “thank you” I’ve heard in ages. As I’m standing back up, I look over in the direction of the babysitter/aunt/mom and she says, “Now, maybe he’ll buy us a cup of coffee.” Now, this has the makings of the next Notebook written all over it, and how does the man referred to (by some) as a “Smooth Criminal” respond? The only imaginable way possible: I look her in the eyes and laugh. I then grab my cupcakes, pay, and walk out.
As I’m walking back to my car, a slight breeze hits me in the face and I alarmingly realize, “Holy shit! She may have been hitting on me/dropping some hints! Why didn’t I capitalize?!” I could have pulled the, “Oh, yeah. Put whatever she’s getting, along with her cute little friend on this card” and then gave her a nice little smile. That would have been a classic smooth criminal response, but nooooo. Being high on sleep-deprivation, I laughed at her…while looking her in the eye. Thanks, Red Sox. (I still love you, and I know you do too, contrary to what Drew Barrymore asks Jimmy Fallon in Fever Pitch – only the greatest movie ever).
There you have it, ladies and gentlemen; smooth as butter.