He looks between me and his phone.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“I didn’t even—I had a whole thing prepared. There were talking points.”
“I’m sure they were great talking points.”
“They really weren’t.” He’s smiling and slightly stunned, like he prepared for every outcome except the one where it actually worked. “Thank you. For putting me out of my misery.”
“You were starting to scare the other customers.”
He laughs and motions at the line forming behind him.
“I should let you work,” he says.
“Probably.”
“But I’ll text you?”
“You’d better.”
He’s still standing there, smiling and still looking at me like he can’t quite believe this is happening when the girl behind him in line clears her throat.
“Go,” I say. “Before I change my mind.”
He goes. Nearly walking into someone on his way out because he’s looking back at me instead of where he’s going. The door closes behind him and I watch through the window as he gets to his car, sits in the driver’s seat, and immediately puts his head on the steering wheel.
I’m laughing when I turn to the next customer.
He textsme forty-five minutes later.
Zach
Hi. This is Zach. From the coffee shop. You probably already know that because you put your number in my phone. So you know it’s me. Anyway. Hi.
Me
Hi Zach from the coffee shop.
Zach
I wanted to make sure I had the right number. Not that you would give me a fake one.
I mean, maybe you would. People do that sometimes. Not that I think you would.
I’m going to stop typing now.
Me
Please don’t. This is the most entertainment I’ve had all week.
Zach
Great. Glad my suffering is useful.
Me
