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.