At least this time I noticed...

Okay....I did it again! I reeeeaaaaallly tried not to, but I did it again!

After our weekly meeting at Campus Crusade tonight, I went to Kaldi's to meet a friend for coffee. I got there a few minutes before he did (yes...I said he, but don't read into it. he is on my staff team and we were meeting to discuss staff related things) so I decided to order a chai latte while I waited (yumm....i've been waiting for an excuse to indulge in one of those!)

So I walk up to the counter and no one is around. Whatever, I'm in no hurry. I don't want to sit at a table by myself anyway. I stand there patiently and pretend to look at the menu. I'm pretending because I already know what I want.

A couple minutes pass. I hear some rucus in the kitchen, but still see no one. A guy in a charcol t-shirt walks out of the kitchen, but quickly passes through another door. I know he had to have seen me. Why won't he come take my order!?!

A poofy haired lady walks up behind me. I see her staring at the menu in my perephrial vision. Maybe she's just pretending as well. I tap my debit card on the counter, lean to my left to peer into the kitchen (no more noise, no more people), then turn to my right to smile at this lady.

"Have you been helped yet?" she asks.

"No," I say. "I think they need a bell."

I finish my statement just as the guy in the charcol t-shirt walks up to the register. I expect him to be abrupt, to exude the irritated attitude of a night time barista, loathing the customers that come in at 10:05, 55mintues before closing, 5minutes past clean up. However, I'm met with a smile and a chipper, "Hey! What can I get for you?"

I take my eyes off his charcol t-shirt and meet his smirking gaze, long enough to say, "ummm...yea! Can I get a tall chai latte?"

I look at the register as he rings me up, $3.05.

"That'll be three dollars and five cents!" he says.

I lift my eyes as I hand him the debit card and notice that his gaze has not stopped grinning, nor has it stopped focusing on me. Our eyes lock for just a second and I notice his sideways smirk broadens to a smile.

"Can you sign this please?" he asks.

"Ummm...sure!" I say and look down at the reciept. I fumble for the pen that is lying on the counter and scrawl my signature on the paper. Oh crap! The pen doesn't work.

I set it down and scan the counter for another one...I know that they keep their pens in a tiny, metal flower pot.

"Oh," he says. "I guess that's why that one was laying over there." And he hands me another pen. I don't look up until I'm finished writing.

"Ha. Yea," I hesitate to look at him. "Here ya go." I hand him the reciept, let my eyes drift towards his, then dart them back to the counter.

"I'll have that right out for ya," he says and my eyes creep back up. I see him still smiling, still ogling, and I look away again.

"Oh," I say with a timid grin. "Okay!" One sideways glance, and I meet his eyes one more time then walk away.

What is going on? Is that guy really trying to make eye contact with me? I'm so stupid. He's doing no such thing.

He calls my name over the intercom a few minutes later. I stand and begin the trek to my long awaited latte.

He's looking at me--standing directly behind my drink, I can't deny it, but I can't return the favor.

Look at him! No don't! He's trying to smile at you. No he's not, stop reading into things. Stop ignoring things.

The schitzophrenic battle ensues in my mind and continues as I struggle to secure the lid on my tea.

"Tall chai latte?" I hear him ask, and I tear my eyes off the cup long enough to smile and say yes. His eyes try to pull me in.

I press the lid, tug my eyes back to the cup, and turn to walk away. But his gaze is like a magnet--and it entices my eyes to look at him once more.

He has really good hair! Oh my gosh...he is totally trying to make eye contact with you! Walk away!

I walk towards my table. One more look. Contact. Only a moment. I see his smile and giggle inside.

What is going on?

I sit at my table and sip my latte.

Oh man, Rachel. You did it again. Stop ignoring the signs!

At least this time I noticed = /

"Just consider me your PR person..."

I'm sitting at Dunn Bros. Coffee talking to my friend Michelle. We're supposed to be working on our New Staff Development for Campus Crusade, but that rarely ever happens on a Tuesday morning, even when we meet at the office.


"Michelle," I say, leaning towards her. "Guess what!"


"What?" she asks, peering over the screen of her white Mac book. I glanced at Alan who is sitting beside her listening to his ipod and reading a book.


"I started a blog," I say.


"Really? What's this blog about?"


I look at Alan again, just to make sure he isn't listening.


"Well," I smile sheepishly, "it's about my venture into the dating world."


"Oh! That sounds interesting!" Michelle says. "I'm going to have to read this blog."


"It's really embarrassing and stupid. But you can get to it on my facebook page."


I start reading again while Michelle searches for my blog. I look up a few minutes later when I hear her laughing.


"This is really funny!" she says. "I want to comment on it. You're a good writer!"





"Thanks! That's really encouraging!" I notice that Alan has stopped reading. He's looking at Michelle's computer.



"What are you guys talking about?" he asks, removing his ear buds. I look at Michelle and purse my lips.


"Rachel has a blog," Michelle says.


"Oh? What is it?" he leans closer to Michelle's computer screen and reads, "Diving into Dating....hmmm..." He looks at me quizzically.


"Okay Alan, let me explain..."



And I brief him on my new desire to experience the "magic" of dating.


"Have you gone on any dates?" he asks.


"Well, that's the problem. I have nothing to blog about...yet."


"Okay," he says. "We can fix that..." and in one swift motion, he flips open his cell phone and begins typing. He's wearing a devious smirk that makes me nervous.


"Alan, what are you doing?"


"Nothing...are you opposed to dating people younger than you?"


"What? I don't know!"


Michelle is laughing. My brain is scrambling. What do I do? This is awkward. Alan is texting. Who is he texting. Stop texting!


I haven't given anyone the opportunity to set me up in over four years. If anyone even mentioned the idea of me dating one of their friends, I would immediately respond with some excuse about how I was too busy to date anyone; I had more important things to do.


But this time, I don't have an excuse. I don't have basketball practice every night, I'm not the editor of a magazine, I don't have to organize a hall program, and maybe I actually want him to text these people. Maybe...


Alan snaps his phone shut and walks to the bathroom.


"Michelle!" I say. "This is so awkward!"


"No!" she says. "This is good. I think you need someone advocating for you."


No I don't. Okay...yes I do. But I don't. Yea I do. I'm in conflict with myself, fighting my natural tendency to pull away and assuring myself I can do it on my own. I can meet people by myself, I don't need your help.



But the truth is....I do. And I need to stop being afraid of letting people help me.


"Don't worry about it," Alan says when returns from the restroom."I'm just puttin' a few feelers out there for ya."


I'm still hesitant.



"Just consider me your PR person."

And that's what I get...my very own PR person. And I guess that's what happens when I inadvertantly ask someone for help--they help me, and I appreciate it.