When I Need A Pick Me Up, by my friend Ryan King

Thursday, November 29, 2007

My Night Job; "And Who's THIS Little Minx?"

So I have no idea why I haven't mentioned my one jewel of a co-worker who I must absolutely call "Sexy Minx". Picture Drew Barrymore. Then give her an ample body, like a Boticelli cherub. Then give her the personality of ... I have no comparison. She is amazing. She's hilarious, to start with. And she flirts with me, no, truly and really, like there is no tomorrow. And this time, it isn't illusion (of which I hope that that other times aren't illusion either. But I'm growing suspect at how many people I think are flirting with me. Because possibly my sexually-repressed ass is just projecting ...). But for her, it's all a game. I know that too. She doesn't really want me, for she has a 5-mo old baby and a boyfriend who planted the seed, of whom she speaks about highly.

Yet she's crazy sexy cool. For instance, she'll be next to me while I'm making a drink for a female customer. I hand it off and I say "Thank you," all barista-style and confident and whatnot. And the female customer might blush or return the smile, as usual. Then Sexy Minx will croon, "Omigod, I can't even believe she's firting with you and I'm standing right here." And she says it huskily and with barely a whisper so that I alone can hear it. "I will scratch her eyes out."

Isn't that awesome?

Once I was in such adoration of her, I grabbed her by the hand, put my hand on her waist, and ballroomed her in a few circles before we got too much attention. She makes me feel that giddy. I LOVE working with her. That isn't apropos to the story of the evening, except that she saved me from blowing up the whole joint last night by just being there and being her sexy, minxy self.

For last night it became obvious that Scullery Maid is quite mad. As in bipolar. She asks over and over again what someone said, and then when she's shouted the answer she said, "Yell at me one more time," as though she is about to truly kick an ass. She started in on me, but I was too mystified and maybe a little scared of her to fight back. I could tell it would end in disaster. But now I don't trust her, much as I love her accent.

Snapper was in attendance as well, but he said he was 'out of it' and so not his usual snappy self. Because there were so many working at the same time last night, he didn't give me any further sordid details about his love life. (Remember Red wants to keep it on the low.) And apart from Scullery's imminent flip-out, I was brought a little low by Snapper's emerged libido anyway, so I wasn't firing on all pistons either. Plus there was no sign of Muslim Girl or Ghetto Fabulous. Possibly never again.

I did overhear Snapper telling Sexy Minx about how I moved to Muslim Girl last night when he tried to take her order. Apparently, at times, I go on the prowl! I guess this was when I asked her if she was studying with her friend and she supplied the details of her employment. What I'm realizing just now is that after Snapper dropped the bomb about his shaggerific life, I felt threatened. So I grew proactive with Muslim Girl because I sensed thought she might be into me, what with the changing tables and glancing my way a few times and whatnot

Still, she didn't show last night, so that moment might be gone forever.

Once someone told me that they didn't envy the male position of having to be the one who steps to the women. And in every single other situation, I don't envy it either. But when I tie that apron around me, and I'm handing off drinks to ladies who act as if I just gave them a rose from between my teeth, I can't help but feed off that. And so in that sense, I love being a guy. I love being the knight in shining armor rescuing the damsel from a dreary, chocolate-deprived night. Literally last night, I told a customer who asked if the Peppermint Mocha Frapp was any good --"I've never had any complaints after I've made one."

To which she said, "Then I want one, and I want you to make it."

And I said, "My pleasure."

Hell yeah, I said it.

And there were no complaints. :-) Quite the opposite. And yes, I love that moan they make. There's nothing like it.

I need to carry that over into the other arena. Snapper's arena, if you will. As so many of you have already pointed out, it's all about the attitude. The Just Do It-ness of the moment. I have to believe that I have a service that will make my chosen one happy.

And that I will gladly do, as soon as I believe it myself.


akakarma said...

Taken women are so comfortable to flirt with! She sounds adorable. Open yourself up to life and see what happens. I like it when your blogs reflect that like tis one! As Dory says (in Nemo) just keep swimming!

fringes said...

Your writing is electrifying.

Alan said...

*stroke ... stroke ... stroke ...* :-) Sexy Minx is fabulous. Too bad I only work with her maybe once every two weeks. She's mainly a weekend girl, and once I return to the shores of Manhattan on a Friday afternoon, only a martial evacuation would get me to return to Jersey before Monday.

I'm glad you dig it, Fringes! I would use the same description for the writing at one of my blog links, Scott of "Hard To Want" fame. Apart from some hastily doubled words and and an unedited orphan here or there, I'm happy about my writing. That's why I do it--and I've written a few novels. Okay, three. But publishers haven't been as in-love with my writing as I have. And so sings the voices of twelve billion of us.

But this blog, and the dissection of my life, has given me a new inspiration to try to write contemporary fiction, instead of my favorites (sci-fi & fantasy). Getting compliments like yours gives me a whole new vista of possibilities.

This November I was going to try to hammer out a contemporary lit piece for NaNoWriMo, but that was impossible with two jobs and a successfully thriving hobby life.

But I'll get it done, because it represents the chance to get paid a lot more for doing something I love. Plus, it'll give me a way to live an exciting life, even if I have to make it up first! LOL

Vi vi vi vooom!!!!!!!! said...

I know exactly what you mean, I love the flirting with the guys I serve beer to. You are the male version to me but serving coffees to the women! At least they don't get the beer goggles on where they give you that glassy eyed pissed look.

Alan said...

Okay, Vi, I get it now! Because, yeah, whenever I'm at a bar and the bartender is a hot chick, I totally feel an attraction. There is something sexy about being served!

A few months back, at the blog link I have, "Ari Goes Down," she wrote about actually staying at a bar in Brooklyn until it closed, then making out with the bartender, who had flirted his way into that position all night.

Do you know if all we bartenders enjoy this kind of chemistry? Or even if its common for bartenders to hook up with customers? I mean, maybe these ladies moaning after their Mocha sips are trying to tell me something?

Gosh, how naive am I?

GrizzBabe said...

I seriously wish I liked the taste of coffee so I could experience the orgasmic reactions your concoctions produce.

magnetbabe said...

Flirting with people who are unavailable is the best kind of flirting. There's no real self-consciousness because you're not trying to get anywhere. It's just innocent, no-so-clean fun. ;)