Medium Iced Passion

"Heeey."

Sigh. He's short, nondescript, wearing a brown sweatshirt and trying too hard. Had he approached me like this-- in a coffee shop, drawing out his vowels all flirty-like-- just six months ago, I might have thought about it. But tonight, as I stand in line for my iced tea, I'm silently flattered and trying not to laugh out of discomfort. "Hey," I say back, and I pause my iPod, accidentally dropping it in the process. I bungee it back into my hand by the headphones, in an uncharacteristically graceful motion. I'm secretly proud of myself for that one.

"Were you listening to Ben Folds?"
"Um! Yes," I say to the boy, smiling. To the barista in front of me, I say, "Medium iced Passion with two bags, please."
The boy bounces awkwardly. "I love Ben Folds."

Now, I don't get hit on very often (as soon as I publish this blog post, I'm going to the library on a Friday night) so I'm not even sure if he was being flirty or just friendly. But, either way, I always know a good opportunity when I see it.

"Me too!" I say. "So you must be pretty excited about Mike Lombardo's new album, right?"

The boy looks like he's considering lying ("Totally; I'm so excited!"), but probably senses that he'll be caught and embarrassed. Instead, he looks down at his feet and says, "I don't think I've heard of him."

"Oh my God! He's going to be the next big thing. He's like Ben Fold's younger, better-looking brother," I say, loosely quoting something I think I've seen on Mike's website bio.
"Oh, cool," the boy says, stepping up to order something annoying like black coffee. "What's his name again?"

I mean... I'm not entirely proud of the fact that I took advantage of some stranger in order to promote my boyfriend's career, but as I wrote "dftba.com/mike" on an old Chipotle receipt and told him that Mike Lombardo is my favorite musician (true) and that Everyone Awesome Ever is pre-ordering Songs For A New Day (slowly becoming true), I couldn't help but feel like a total badass.

The two of us hovered by the door for a few minutes, him telling me about some obscure band I've never heard of, and me nodding noncommittally and sipping my red tea. I did a pretty good impression of someone polite, and then we parted ways. As I walked down the street, giggling to myself, I pulled out my phone and hit the speed dial for my favorite musician.

"I have such a funny story for you!"

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