The girl at the café didn’t notice me at first. She didn’t realize that I lived right around the corner and that I stopped by almost every day after work to stock up on enough caffeine or sometimes beers to get me through my homework, if not the evening as a whole. Sometimes I brought a friend or two along and we’d put our heads together and power through whatever new horror our bosses had assigned us that day. But I always seemed to get sidetracked and I’d prop my chin up in one hand and send more than subtle glances in her direction as the girl at the café steamed milk and stirred lattes, every now and then smiling her gentle, off-hand smile. It seemed like everyone knew, that everyone had heard how one day she would look over and see me and I’d walk right up to her and tell her how beautiful she was and how she haunted all my waking dreams with her quiet, mysterious air and deep green, thoughtful eyes. Although it didn’t exactly happen that way, it was pure chance the day we met, for even then she didn’t believe in fate.
“You come here a lot, don’t you?” I can’t help but say that I nearly choked on my Guiness Black Lager. She was speaking to me, noticing me, acknowledging my existence! And as I have yet to assume otherwise that people do anything but splutter like an idiot when first interacting with the love of their life, I feel like I set a good first example.