girls who love starbucks and boys, who love boys

For those of you know do not really know me, I’ll share that I am a loyal Starbucks customer.   In fact, Adriana said to me the other day, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a coffee cup in hand.”  Pure exaggeration there, but not too far-fetched.

So today is Friday…which makes me think of the professor I had my freshman year of college, Dr. Dixon, who used to call it F***it Friday and let us go after taking roll.  A.MAY.ZING.  Not only that but she directly asked me what I was doing in her class full of idiots and that I didn’t have to turn in any more papers because I was getting an A.  I took that as a sign that Kent State wasn’t the school for me and may have even applied to OU that day. 

Anyways, after getting my Starbucks this morning before work, I decided that I was going to stay strong and not give into the temptation of a second Soy AmeriMisto.  Let me tell you that it’s not an easy task with me working from my apartment that is three blocks away from ‘bucks.  (Lucky me, I know.)  While I made it through the work day, I realized that it was either going to be a 5 pm bed time tonight or another round of caffeinated bliss.  It was either coffee or wine, and with an early Bootcamp tomorrow morning I decided coffee was the way to go. 

The cool winter Chicago air perked me up a bit but it wasn’t until I entered my second home that I felt rejuvenated- even before that first sip of coffee.  My favorite barista, Adam, was working.  Our relationship is very casual as he takes my order and we shoot the shit for a few minutes before the customer behind me fakes a cough to get me out of her way.  Let me say this, I love, love, love the Starbucks’ employees but the customers are typically bitches- at least the typical DePaul sorority girl or ritzy soccer mom who is also on her cell while her kids are picking up every item on the display tables. 

Okay, back to Adam.  Today he officially earned the title of my Gay Boyfriend.  Congratulations, Adam!  You are among some fabulous men and I’ll admit that you’re a lucky guy to have me ‘on your arm’.  The best quote of the day, possibly the week, came from him today.  In asking how he was doing he said, “Do you want my honest answer or the Starbucks’ one?”  (LOVE IT!)  “Honest one, of course,” I replied.  “I feel shitty.”  In that moment, Adam, who has been my barista for well over a year now but we just exchanged names a few weeks ago, became my gay boyfriend.

Not knowing him very well I know that Adam is a great guy.  He doesn’t deserve to feel shitty and have bad days.  That being said, he shared with me that he was struggling in his relationship with his boyfriend of two years, who he also lives with.  He filled me in on the basics, and I could just see the pain and aggrevation in his eyes.  As someone who has suffered from a broken heart, I can honestly say that I wouldn’t wish this pain on my worst enemy let alone someone wonderful enough to earn the title of My Gay Boyfriend.  Why do good people always seem to be the ones that get hurt?

My advice to Adam was to indulge in the therapies that provide some relief, but as all broken hearts know, there’s no simple, one-step solution.  Of course there’s alcohol, but that relief only lasts for 1-2 drinks before the tears and drunk dialing begin.  So I told him what helped me.  1) Go outside and scream.  Which probably won’t work in our Chicago neighborhood, but I still remember my infamous screaming from the balcony on Elliot Street with Phill; and the time I screamed with the others from the top of Bong Hill, overlooking the entire OU campus.  Oh college, how I miss thee!  2) Remember to breathe.  This has become my advice for everything because it’s a quick fix when the pain becomes unbearable, or worse when you cannot feel anything at all. 

Whether my advice works or not, Adam did appreciate my listening ear and gave me my drink for free.  Best boyfriend ever!  Funny because Adriana and I were talking last week about howI just need a barista boyfriend.  Now if only I could find a straight barista…

Sitting here I’m finding myself wondering how you really do mend a broken heart.  Alcohol doesn’t cure the ‘disease’, and unfortunately neither does chocolate.  Casual sex…umm no…only a temporary fix, if even that at all.  Friends certainly help, but they proove to be distractions and not solutions.  Does the pain from a broken heart ever end?

And on that note, I’m getting ready to watch The Time Traveler’s Wife- which is my favorite novel and something that greatly impacted me.  I’ll warn you now that it may lead me to write another posting later tonight or this weekend that is somewhat sappy and ‘close to home’ (minus that whole time traveling thing).  We’ll just blame it on hormones.

Lastly, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my MOM!!  Love you.


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