I don’t drink coffee. Coffee’s nasty. I take my caffeine in the form of cocoa. Who doesn’t love hot chocolate? I’ve tried them all: Peet’s Starbucks, Tully’s. There’s this bakery near my parents’ house that melts bars of chocolate. Pure decadence, but also too rich.
My all-time favorite hot chocolate is at Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf. I call their cocoa liquid cocaine. They just came out with their nutritional guide. There’s a reason I think the hot chocolate is so damn good. It packs it in with 500+ calories. I almost had a heart attack when I saw that. No big deal, though. I think I can afford a few grams of saturated fat. I am pretty phat.
So one day I’m sitting outside Coffee Bean at one of the tables, taking in the sunshine, happy and content with my large hot chocolate. This attractive guy comes out with his drink and (lucky for him) he can’t find an extra table to sit at. He asks if he can sit with me. I could care less and nod affirmatively, but indifferently at the same time. I’m not really thinking about being attracted to him, as I’m engrossed in an article I’m reading in the Sunday paper.
He tries to make conversation and the whole time I’m acting annoyed—even though I think he’s pretty cute. I have problems with showing interest in guys. I need to figure this problem out, but then again, I seem to do pretty well for myself. We continue to chit-chat and the whole time I’m sizing him up with direct questions. What do you do? Where do you live? Where you from? Where’d you go to school? Northeastern. North wuh? Sam makes a dumb comment and I mutter, “That’s why you went to Northeastern and not Northwestern.”
Sam’s a guy who has parlayed his frat-boy behavior into a career. He’s loud, boisterous, confident. We’d been emailing, calling. All of his communications start out with some compound term of endearment: Hotcocoa, Babydoll, Hotstuff. I’m thrilled. Mind you, only hot guys can pull crap like this off. When was the last time a scrawny, unpopular geek called a chick Hotstuff? There’s something very sexy about a guy who’s got the bravado to call a girl he barely knows Babydoll.
One time, we’re chatting on the phone. He’s talking to me on his cell phone, his home phone rings, he picks up, greets hello, then says to the other chick, “Hey Babydoll, let me call you back in a few. I’m on the other line.” I’m totally cracking up. The whole time I had thought that these terms of endearment were reserved for me….when they were simply synonymous with ‘Buddy’ or ‘Pal.’ What a player!!!