problem(s) solved?

i woke up early this morning, which was weird. i don't do mornings. my dream morning is actually waking up at noon, not even in the morning. and then going back to sleep.

this morning, i opened my eyes and couldn't go back to sleep. i was stressed about a few things. it all started last week, as i was wasting time (aka the economy --> shitty --> everyone in the whole world getting their hours cut --> me included --> too much time, no money --> wandering around stores window shopping while dodging hungry sales associates hoping that you will buy something --> you don't.) in bailey/coy books. i got a call from the catering company i sometimes work for. they wanted me to work a few events this coming week, which i eagerly agreed to. i mean, yes, working a catering event means i have to take out my nose ring, wear a retarded looking "white bistro" uniform, chunky black shoes and am often forced to run around some defense lawyers of western washington annual banquet ("...and here's the man who successfully got so-and-so aquitted! and we all know he was guilty as hell!") picking up half-eaten goopy plates and answering questions about the bar ("whaddya mean its not open bar!?"). BUT its a job, its hours, its a tiny paycheck i receive twice a month that i use to pay for things like a roof over my head. so yes, i am a a temp worker. and i am okay with it.

i got the address of the events i was supposed to work over the phone from the cantankerous secretary at the "premiere event staffing firm" that i work for. and then i realized that i would need to find a ride. this led to remember the last time i got a ride from a fellow caterer. brent, the late-20-something-year-old guy with the unnecessary beard and equally unnecessary ego. i hop in his car last week, wearing my dumbass uniform and panting from rushing around to get ready. "okay, we're a few minutes behind schedule but i'll try to make up for lost time," he whines, looking at the clock on the dashboard of his circa-1990 volvo station wagon. "sorry," i smile, unphased by brent's nagging. the events of my morning, which included waking up entangled with my cute barista boy in his bed, listening to belle & sebastian on his record player in my undies and losing at attempts at getting dressed (its difficult when you have a smooth-talking boy who keeps pulling you back into bed and covering you with kisses. just sayin'.), had me in a fog of secret sighs and giggles. "what are you so happy about?" brent snarled, in a sudden rage of frustration over punctuality and most likely, lack of sex. "you have a good date or somethin'?" i just giggled again and brent looked even more pissed off. "that reminds me. i need gas money," he grumbled, stomping on the gas. ugg. bastard.

anyways, i wake up this morning and realize i have another catering event that i need a ride to. i texted brent, but no reply. aaron, another creepy caterer who seems to only pay attention to me when he knows i am available, gave me the same response. the bus seemed to be the only option, but with me having a job interview (YES) at 3:00 i wouldn't have time to take the four million buses necessary to make it out to redmond, where the event was being held. shit.

which leads me to the next problem. guys treating me differently when i am not totally available. or am i available? i don't even know. okay. so, hypothetical situation. totally single girl is having drinks at her favorite bar, sees a bunch of baristas from her favorite coffee shop having drinks next to her. is invited over, ends up cozing up to one particular barista boy who walks her home, gives her a kiss on the cheek and slips her his number. text-flirtation ensues, a date follows, and naturally, one night he sneaks her into his coffee shop after hours and they have a hot romp all over the coffee shop countertop, knocking over bean hoppers, stacked cups and accidentally printing nine pages on the office printer in the back room. i still don't know what those pages contained... i mean! hypothetically speaking, of course. all a possible scenario.

part two. somewhere along the line, the "pre-dating" talk comes up. we're in bed, and we both sigh "this is great, but we can't get all relationshipXcore on this." i finish that statement with the reasoning that i am moving to new york soon (hopefully) and he simultaneously blurts out "i just got out of a six year relationship."

oh. shit.

so. not in a relationship. just messing around. sleepovers. etc. right? but then the next morning he wakes me up with kisses and asks me if i want to get breakfast. WTF?!? not just grab a coffee and walk around. sit down breakfast. hand holding. puts phone on silencer to be with me. boyfriendXcore.

and then the other night, while out for drinks with his friends, his buddy punches his arm and calls him a dumbass or something. barista boy smiles, kisses me playfully (ah! in front of friends! why does he keep doing this?), and breathes "she doesn't seem to mind. in fact, i'm convinced that's why she likes me." when did i tell him i liked him? I NEVER DID. the junior 'L' word has not been unleashed yet. let's slow down, buddy.

so i have a cute barista boy who i may or may not be in a relationship with. all the guys in my life are either jumping on the overprotective train (my guy roommates) or the asshole train (creepers who apparently wanted to do me). mostly a bunch of co-workers from McCatering or my Actual Restaurant Job fall into this second category. brent. aaron. graham (the 30-something at A.R.J. who follows me around whispering things that are borderline sexual harassment and then laughing "juuuust joshin' ya!"). and now McFlannel*.

so, McFlannel is you, you know, sort of perfect. but as soon as my barista boy started making an appearance with me all over town, McFlannel has retreated to that obviously hurt friend who thought he was more than a friend sort of behavior. at work he is quiet and polite towards me, but no more beers together after work, or walking around the park, or flirt texts. hm.

a few days ago, my barista boy lost his phone. at first i was cranky. i couldn't get a hold of him, so no hanging out/going out to bars with him/subsequent sleepovers. and then i realized, i am a single lady (cue beyonce please). i don't need to feel like i can't go out without him on my arm! so i head out to a good show (one that i told him about weeks ago but he probably forgot about). i bring a good book to read in between sets. hot damn. ha. as i am walking down 10th towards the always classy king cobra, i accidentally collide with someone exiting oddfellows. of course. McFlannel. he smiles wide and hugs me. "i run into you EVERYWHERE!" he laughs, showing his perfect jawline and scruffy beard. "i'm just about to go to a show... wait, are you going too?" of course we are going to the same show. he holds up his metro man bag, complete with a good book. "i was just going to read a bit before the show," he explains, blushing, "nerdy, i know." i laugh, shaking my head. that's exactly what i was going to do. "you wouldn't want to grab a drink with me before the show?" he asks, carefully.

that's exactly what i was hoping you'd say.

in conclusion. i woke up this morning, way too early. after a bunch of pointless texts to find a ride to my McCatering job, i realized i had the day wrong. no work today. problem number one solved. i can get to my job interview and hopefully get this job at a cute little creperie, adding to my hours and my paycheck and my life will be vastly improved. problem number two solved (?). keep your fingers crossed. and barista boy found his phone. he texted me this morning. "found phone! how was the show the other night?"

problem number three. the show was great...


appendix!

* McFlannel is a 20-something soft spoken guy from around the neighborhood who spends his time covering other people's shifts when they are too hungover to work, volunteering with children, sitting at good shows, reading good books, looking good, and playing board games with his equally good-looking roommates. i run into him EVERYWHERE. granted, i live in the same neighborhood. but i see him practically every day it seems. like main-characters-in-a-movie-that-takes-place-in-new-york-but-conveniently-run-into-each-other amount of running into each other. probably because we have all the same interests. or whatev. a few months ago we started texting each other a bit more, started hanging out a tiny bit. and then one drunken night i ran into barista boy and suddenly we are like dating (?) and McFlannel is no longer an option (?). oh, he wears a lot of flannel. that is the reason for the McNickname.