Mr. Starbucks

But first, to bridge the gap…

I have been dating Mr. Cocky on and off for 6 months now. I may be in love with him and he may be a total douche. But, he continues to rock my world. On to the new guy…

The day after I returned from LA, I decided to drag my tired ass over to the local Starbucks to read a book…for pleasure. I hadn’t showered, was quite jet-lagged, and had my greasy hair pulled back with a cloth headband and no make-up on. I strolled in, ordered a skim latte and settled down next to the window, putting my feet up on the chair next to me as I opened The Road. Not long after I had settled in, I noticed a handsome gentleman, tall and thin with dark hair and glasses, walking in. While he was up at the counter presumably ordering an over-priced coffee, an older man (dad’s age) was looking for a seat. I didn’t dare move my feet. He took the seat next to the one my tired heels were resting upon. I saw that the cute guy was looking for a seat, so I nonchalantly took my feet down and he nonchalantly took the seat. I noticed him glancing at me out of the corner of my eye but it took a while for him to say something. He said, “Hard to put that book down, huh?” I mumbled an agreement, then something about being jet-lagged. We ended up talking for about an hour.

I found out that Mr. Starbucks was from Richmond and had a sister who is a physician there. He works for the World Bank, doing something with crisis management in sub-Saharan Africa. He went to Hamilton, which is one of the upstate New York colleges I considered attending. The Road was his favorite book. I liked Mr. Starbucks. Our conversation came to an end when he informed me that he needed to head to work. He took out his phone and said, “We should go out some time.” As he asked for my number, his hands shook just slightly. I thought it was adorable.

I knew he was going out of town for New Year’s, but when I still hadn’t heard from him Monday, I texted. He texted back in under half an hour and asked if we could go to Bistro Lepic the next night at 8:30. He wanted to know my address so that he could swing by and we could walk down together. I was quite nervous, especially because Mr. Cocky was texting me before Mr. Starbucks was set to arrive, asking me to have dinner with him. Mr. Starbucks showed up and I introduced him to 2 of the girls. As we headed out, the conversation was easy and natural.

The food and wine were all delicious. I found out that he is far more sophisticated than I. He knew all about wine and wanted to order pate. But I can hang. There were no lulls in the conversation. I was beginning to like Mr. Starbucks. However…I had this nagging feeling that this was not the guy for me. Even on the way to dinner, I felt like I had to hold back. You all know how I can be…and I was on my best behavior for this guy. No lewd conduct whatsoever. From my first date with Mr. Cocky and my first time talking to Mr. Never-Gonna-Happen, I felt like I could be myself, like neither of them would judge me or be turned off by my frequent dropping of the F bomb.

After some appetizers and wine, Mr. Starbucks invited me back to his place in Georgetown. I was hesitant, but I went anyways. Not 5 minutes after we got in the door, he kissed me. We ended up making out quite a bit. Good kisser. He poured more wine and we went upstairs to a sitting area with books and a tv. More making out. He tried to take off my shirt and I had to stop him. I stumbled over my words…we’re moving kinda fast for me…I’m not that kinda girl…if that’s what you are looking for, I get it, but it’s not me…yada, yada. He quickly apologized and asked me to stay. More making out, more chatting.

And every single time he kissed me, I thought of Mr. Cocky. It was like some fucking retarded mantra… “I wish I was with Mr. Cocky, I wish I was with Mr. Cocky.”

Eventually, I told Mr. Starbucks I needed to go home. He made a brief attempt to make me stay, then walked me to Wisconsin, hailed me a cab, and gave the driver money to take me home. He is a Southern gentleman for sure.

HOWEVER…I can’t help but think he just wants to fuck me. While we were making out, he would occasionally say things like, “Your have the best lips,” or, “Your eyes are so beautiful.” They felt like lines. I cannot explain why…but I am certain you all know what I mean. Some men sound sincere and some don’t. It is a gut feeling, and every time I have ignored my gut, it has gotten me into trouble. Mr. Cocky never made me feel like I was being fed lines. Neither did Mr. Never-Gonna-Happen. I am going to go out with Mr. Starbucks again, but I am not so sure about him. I was texting Mr. Cocky the second I got in the cab. I just wanted to crawl into bed with him. FML.