Hold me?

Okay, that bit about my stalker is not true; I do not find him even marginally attractive, I guarantee you that. But I do have a stalker! Kind of. Actually, this is a really weird story.

One of our regulars, this seven hundred year old guy (okay, I exaggerate slightly, but he's 65 if he's a day) walked up to my manager last week and asked if I was working that day. Why would he ask that? I didn't even know he knew my name! (Some of my customers know who I am, but I don't remember ever telling him my name.) She told him I'd be in later, and then when he saw me, he came up and greeted me (by name) and asked how many hours I worked per week. I was like, eh?

He came in again today. The thing is, I can't shut off my natural friendliness. I remember his name now, and smile at him when he comes in and make his drink with my usual chipper perkiness. I think he tried to strike up a conversation with me ("And how are you???!?!?!?") but I got busy and he sat down with his latte. He didn't say anything else to me. But I can't shake this weird feeling like, argh, he knows who I am. He keeps tabs on my schedule. He's been watching me.

But on the flip side, these super cute firefighters came in too. They were bored, they said; they had nothing to do at the firehouse. They had on uniforms. I offered to set Starbucks on fire for them. One of them in particular was very chatty, and seemed charmed by my charmingness.

And then the new girl totally cockblocked me. She swooped right into the conversation before I got a chance to slip in the whole "I have a large brain and adult goals, I swear" thing, leaving me to go make drinks.

And I'm sure she didn't even realize what she was doing, since she's far too young to fully appreciate a hot firefighter. She just never stops talking, and if there's a conversation going on, she has to jump in. Without stopping to wonder if she is, indeed, being a cockblocker.

Come to think of it, I kind of hope she doesn't know what "being a cockblocker" even entails. I like to think of girls that age as young and innocent, no matter how many of them come in and buy iced mochas with their gold cards.

There are two pieces of good news on the job front.

First, I'm getting proofreading work again from my friend Hannah. Her business has its ups and downs (the freelance market always does) but when I can get work, it's $15 per hour, so that's nice. And it is way easy.

And secondly, I have an interview on Wednesday for a part-time tutoring job that also pays very well. This is another job where my hours would fluctuate. So it would be like cobbling together one job out of three part time jobs.

If it equals more money, I can certainly deal with that.

MY SISTER
Today's my last day. I'm starting a new job on Monday.

ME
Oh, what job?

SIS
Firefly.

ME
Oh, you're going back to Firefly, then?

SIS
Yep.

ME
Hooray!

SIS
Well, you did tell me that I have to work with Joss Whedon for the rest of my life. I took that into consideration.

ME
You're a good sister.

None.

The newts stayed with my parents, by the way. Wow, ten years. No idea newts lived that long. And I didn't even hang out with him much when I visited. Sigh.