I looked down at her Profile. “Coffee addict” it said.
This is confusing. A Coffee Addict attends meetings and tells heart wrenching stories about real shit kids from the suburbs only see on TV. They show the cream they use every day to minimize the herpes sprouts that Martinez’s gave them. They’re the ragged people stopping you on your way to the Train station to explain how they need a pinch of Folders for their sick mother. And some one believes them, they go behind the Denny’s parking lot and secure it within the safety of their Anus. Everyone knows it hits faster that way. Coffee Addict.
This chick didn’t seem like someone who had what it took. She looked like the “new breed” of addict. She looked like she bought Pumpkin spice lattes before the weekly financial meeting with the VP’s. Quite possibly complained when it lacked the adequate amount of Carmel, rushing off the whipped cream mountain. You better believe she was gonna get a free bold roast of this, to show her boss why she deserved that raise. Like Lindsay Lohan would have done.
We matched. I fired off the first message.
“Want to go to Starbucks sometime?”