Is it just me, or is everyone else also a little bit in love with their favourite barista?
I've got a couple of long term favourites, both of whom I'm a little in love with, but of course in different ways as one of them is a guy … ahem. I'm talking about Chris and Louisa from Saturday Breakfast Club.
Chris, because he's a hairily handsome bastard and impossibly cheerful in the face of bickering families with screaming kids, but mostly because he proudly sports the most extensive and expensive collection of traditional and beautifully coloured yakuza-style koi tattoos ever seen on a white guy.
You can't beat the classics, and Chris makes all of those token tat guys with 'trendy' Maori, tribal or Celtic tattoos look a little bit pathetic. Yay him for doing it properly.
And Louisa, because … well … because she's Louisa. Tall, willowy, ponytailed and perky and always ready to chat and laugh with a creepy old guy like me while she serves the rest of the queue. And yes, she's pretty and yes, she has a butt I could cup in one hand and yadda, yadda, yadda … So yeah, you can chalk this one up with all of my 500 Words stories that come under the tag: "My Apparent Waitress Fixation."
Anyhoo: on to the real point of this excruciating ramble: this morning at breakfast whilst chatting away to Louisa I learned of the existence of THE MOST WONDERFUL THING IN THE WORLD™ and I WAAAAANT one!
We were discussing the difference between an Italian latte and the version Louisa serves with her Norwich accent: 'the larrrr 'ee', when the implausibly slender and lissome Polish girl, Anita, poked her head round the kitchen door and yelled across to Lou, "I've rung the bell for bacon!"
And the world stopped spinning and we all fell off …
"I have GOT to get myself one of those!" I said.
"One of what?" asked Louisa.
"A bell you can ring for bacon."
At which her eyes opened wide and she started moaning with unfulfilled desire.
"Baaaaay-con. Oooooh, a bell that brings baaaay-con. Yes, Yes, YES!"
"That's going to torment me all weekend." I said, and we both moaned some more, and there may have been some drooling going on there, too, for a bit.
Admittedly, my own moan of desperate longing was not just for the bell that brings bacon - wonderful though that is - but inevitably involved the impossible dream of practicing another pork-related activity with the pony-tailed princess of the foamy milk jug. But for a minute there we enjoyed a Meg Ryan gasping and moaning episode together, which will indeed torment me for the rest of the weekend but I've learned to be happy with what I can get.
So if anybody ever wonders what to get me for birthdays or Christmas, start searching now for THE MOST WONDERFUL THING IN THE WORLD™: A bell I can ring for bacon! I want one of those so much!
Or if you can't get that, I'll settle for Louisa, nicely packaged in a little waitress outfit and delivered to my door. And don't forget to poke air holes in the box; we don't want a repeat of the time Knudsen shipped me that Japanese girl and forgot the air holes (see posts passim). Sheesh, that was not nice.
So fess up: who's your favourite barista?
15 comments:
Barista? Nope. No way. There is one man, though, who inspires thoughts ... Oh, yes.
Sometimes hard to see in a roomful of gray, cardboard people, when he smiles he takes on dimension and lights up the area where he stands. Built a bit like an aged alien, I imagine, with a little gut and skinny legs, he's bright, funny and kind. And when he speaks, oh Lord, my lips moisten and quiver.
"Talk to me, baby."
"Oh, yeah, that's it. Ooh, keep talkin'."
"Say that again."
"Again."
"And again."
Oh, yes, keep talkin', don't stop."
"Yes-yes-yes-yes-YES!"
"Be quiet, baby, I'm done."
Now, if he can make a latte ...
http://youtu.be/zXS0nEOx_20
Hahahahaha for the song, Speedway. And … er … good luck with the aged alien guy. I hope he makes a damned fine latte.
The MITM, sugar, because he brings fresh coffee to me every morning (when he's home) and, well, you can imagine the rest! xoxoxox
And he's a great cook too, Savannah. You lucky gal! xoxoxoxox
Dive dreams of bacon
and porking the barista
A pleasant weekend
:^D
Coffee, bacon and unrequited sexual desire. Well, two out of the three ain't bad, Lulu.
A haiku weekend to you.
Ask me again when the recession's over, Dive. We make our coffee at home. So I guess right now my favorite barista is me.
Only the very best for you, Petrea.
Now, N want a bell he can ring for bacon. And I'd like some good coffee. Just small desires....
Mmmm … Coffee and bacon. Those were two of the things I had to give up for a bit while trying to find the source of my migraines. It was beyond hell!
I had to give up coffee, too. It was the stupidest thing because I had more migraines for the first two weeks, then after that I had exactly as many as I'd always had, yet I had to keep up the whole thing for six months. AND the preventive drug the doctor had me on was a depressant. I could barely move. Glad that's over and coffee has proven to be as good for me as sunshine and exercise...
Me too, Petrea. Coffee, cheese, pork of all varieties, seafood, chocolate … the darned doctor took all of the pleasure from my life and still the migraines kept on coming.
Then I switched to the beautiful and bewitching Doctor Amanda and within six months she had almost completely stopped them through simple lifestyle changes and discipline (with only emergency drugs). No more forty-eight hour vomit, unbearable screaming agony and blind hallucinogenic nightmares; no more rubbing my forehead against the bathroom wall to stop the pain until all the skin came away (what a right royal mess that was); no more PAIN! I love Doctor Amanda.
And I can still drink coffee and eat bacon. Woohoo!
Oh, and hoorah for the National Health. It's all free!
Big it up for the Socialist Nightmare of life this side of the Pond.
Sending you a FB message. I need to know what Dr. Amanda prescribed!
Thanks, Petrea. I slept through my alarms this morning (okay: I forgot to set them) so I'm rushing around in a panic. I'll reply fully this evening.
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