Hello won’t kill you. I mean seriously. You’d think that a simple thing like hello would be harmless. Isn’t that usually the beginning of something? Everything starts with hello! But no! Not in my case. For me it’s the end. Look at me! There I am, surrounded by some of the best doctors in the world, working furiously to put stuff that doesn’t belong on my lap back inside me, and taking shit out that doesn’t belong where my guts go. Well, they’re working pretty hard, so maybe there’s a chance.

Is there? What? You’re the quiet type? You don’t talk? Maybe I’ll be pulled back into my body like those people in the near-death experience documentaries on the Discovery channel. But, where’s the bright light? Well, at least my heart monitor is keeping a good beat. Isn’t it?

This has got to be the worst Alanis Morisette song ever! Why the hell are they listening to that? Talk about ironic. There I was, minding my own business, standing in line at Starbucks waiting to place my order. Jen, my favorite barista had already greeted me in the her typical way.

“Good morning sweetie…your usual?”

I smiled.

“You know me! Mr. Caramel Macchiato.”

She had heard that line from me before, but she always smiled like it was the first time. She knew I was usually in a hurry in the morning, so she got my drink started before I got to the cash register and paid. I scanned the pastries as the guy in front of me stepped up to place his drink order. It’s not like I was going to choose something other than my regular cinnamon twist, but I looked anyway. I even had exact change in my hand. I knew those pastries would kill me some day.

I felt someone walk up behind me. Curiously, I looked out of the corner of my eye, careful not to be obvious. There she was, standing next to me, glancing at the pumpkin scones, looking as cute and as hot as you can imagine, and she wasn’t even trying. Two parts angel and one part slutty girl, but in a playful way. And a smile that would melt the polar icecap. I immediately felt my own personal global warming happening.

“Anything good?” She asked.

At first I thought that perhaps she was talking to a companion. It took me a second or two to realize she was alone. She was actually asking me!

I smiled and feebly retorted with “Always! Just not good for you!”

What the fuck was that? A Masters degree in English and that’s the best I could come up with? The hottest woman I’ve come across in a long time attempted to start idle chat with me and I decide to give her nutritional advice? I look like the fucking Pillsbury Dough boy and I’m giving nutritional advice. I turned away from her embarrassed, paid for my drink…No pastry. I stepped over by the tables next to the pick-up counter and pretended to be interested in some of the CDs. She ordered her drink and joined all the other morning caffeine junkies, impatiently awaiting their morning fix.

She wandered over to look at the overpriced mugs and the other expensive stuff on the shelf. I was transfixed by her. I couldn’t help it. It took all of my will power not to drool. The tight jeans she wore definitely accentuated her long legs, which by the way, went all the way up to an ass that even J-Lo would envy. Then my eyes became riveted to her skintight aqua halter-top, which left little to the imagination as to what it was covering. Definitely a C-cup had she been wearing a bra. Every so often she would pull on her top to make sure everything was still in place. It was a cold morning in Southern California. The nipple action attested to that. For a second I thought she was going to tear through the fabric. Her short curly brown hair had blond streaks and gently caressed her beautiful bare shoulders, which on the right bore a small tattoo of Japanese writing. Man, she was hot!

She must have felt my stare her because she turned around, smiled at me, and took a few steps in my direction. The guy that had ordered ahead of me was moving up to get his drink. I was next. I checked to see how my drink was coming along, trying to avoid eye contact with her. Jen was still steaming the milk. When I turned the girl stood next to me. She gave me that smile again. There it was…The global warming.

I now noticed her big beautiful brown eyes and her full lips, a cute little nose and her delicate features. She was breathtaking. I looked away a bit embarrassed.

“Hello won’t kill you, you know,” she said finally.

Famous last words. I shouldn’t say that, those doctors are still working hard. At the time, even had I known I’d end up on that table I wouldn’t have cared, the hottest chick in the world was smiling at me.
Me!

You have to realize, I’m not the kind of guy that’s bold and seizes the moment. Carpe Diem was not my motto! I mean I’ve always been kind of shy. OK, OK. Very shy! But shit, here it was, a big fat fastball down the middle of the plate. I had to take a swing. And this time I had to make contact.

“Hi,” I said, sounding pretty sure of myself. Followed by a feeble “sorry.” She smiled, “It’s ok,” she said.

She looked at me a second and said “You have a kind smile. I like that.” I barely managed a muffled “thank you.” And at that point Jen called my name. My Caramel Macchiato waiting for me at the bar. I picked up my drink and before I returned my attention to the matter at hand I heard, “So, Adam, you off to work?”

Nice! She heard my name when Jen called it out. Nice move! I was impressed, but I felt like a Triple-A player going against a 95mph fastballer. I don’t know what possessed me but I dug in. This was my third and final pitch. I swung and missed badly the first time; the second I fouled off; I had to put some good wood on this one. It was the bottom of the ninth two outs and I had two strikes on me.

“Unfortunately I am. But I’d love to continue our conversation. Perhaps you’ll let me buy you a latte?” She smiled.

Not a home run but at least I put the ball in play this time! She dug into her tiny purse and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. She wrote her name and her number and gave it to me. I glanced at it before jamming it into my jacket pocket. “Stephanie. It has been a pleasure to meet you. I’ll give you a call once I get off work. Is that cool?”

She was looking at me like I was the only person around; at least that’s how I felt. “Yes, please do” she said.

“I’m off work at five, but you can call anytime.” She extended her arm for a handshake and I gladly took it. Her hand was warm and it fit in mine in a way that felt comfortable and familiar, it was a perfect fit.

“A pleasure to meet you,” I said. She responded with that big smile of hers and said, “Call me.”

I left Starbucks floating on cloud nine and feeling like I walking in slow motion. My drink secured in its cup holder, I turned on my truck, and drove out of my parking space still smiling. A left turn was necessary upon leaving the parking lot in order to get onto the street that takes me to work. I had done it hundreds of times. Right before I turned, I searched my jacket pocket and pulled out the paper. I had to make sure it was real. “Stephanie,” I liked the sound, goofy smile on my face. I don’t know how long I stared at that paper. Probably just a split second, it was a split second too long… Startled back into reality by a loud rumbling and screech of tires, I looked out my side window and all I saw was a huge cement truck coming at me! Next thing I know I’m sitting here watching these doctors pulling glass and shit out of my abdomen and trying to untangle my guts so they can put them back in.

“Hey! The doctors stopped working! When do I get pulled back in? How do I…I…I’m dead now aren’t I?”
“Yep.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble like that.”
“Don’t worry, newbies always do. Ready?”
“No, not really.”
“That was more of a rhetorical question”
“Fuck”

Tags: fiction