Raspberry Mocha Frapaccino

�Life is the ultimate experience. You have to experience it, in order to write about it.� - from, �The Sure Thing�

 

Dejectedly, I walked out of the break room, with four dollars in my pocket, and headed for the Starbucks in my store. I had just clocked out and I really needed to taste something sweet when things had unexpectedly, or was it that unexpected, gone sour. Sort of like only a week ago when I drove to the store for raspberries and whipped cream, expecting the raspberries to be as sweet as the raspberry sauce I got whenever I ordered my Raspberry Mocha Frappacino. When I bit into my first raspberry, my face bunched together, the whipped cream barely able covering the sourness. I had to force myself to finish the bowl of raspberries, and I never touched the plastic carton where the remainder of the raspberries was again.

 

I walked up to the counter and saw Nicky, probably hoping I wasn’t about to make her work on another drink. Sorry, Nicky. Broken hearts don’t know time. I asked for my tall Raspberry Mocha Frappacino.

 

“I don’t think we have that anymore,” she said, motioning to the menu in the back of her. I looked at the menu, and sure enough, its name no longer on the list. I inwardly sank, disappointed at the thought of my drink being discontinued, if only for the duration of the fall season. She still agreed to make the drink, having to consult a laminated copy of the drinks that the place offered for the code to punch into the computer. My eyes wandered to the right where a chalkboard was up, advertising the Pumpkin Latte that was featured for the new season. Underneath were the names of the people who worked there.

 

They still haven’t erased his name, I realized. They have to be able to do that. If they can take Brian’s name off of the computer when printing out the schedule, I don’t think it’s that difficult to wipe chalk off of the board.

 

I hadn’t seen Brian in almost two weeks. At first, I figured that maybe our schedules just weren’t matching and he had his days off, when I realized that I doubted that he would have the weekends off twice in a row. It occurred to me to check the schedule that was posted in the break room. When I drove to work yesterday morning, All American Rejects’ song, “Move Along” was playing on repeat on my iPod because it was stuck in my head. Should I have taken the hint? When I didn’t see Brian’s name on the schedule, it clicked why he was gone.

 

That Sunday had to have been my best day at work. And probably the best day out of the whole year. I walked to the Starbuck’s, and as I got closer, Brian’s back was turned to me. Then my eyes wandered down his back and rested on his very shapely a*s.

 

Damn you Rosie, I thought to myself. I wouldn’t have looked if you hadn’t pointed it out! The day before, Rosie, my coworker and the aunt of my cousin’s boyfriend, made the comment that one of the guys at Starbuck’s had a, “big booty!” Only her, only her. When I got to the counter, the first thing out of my mouth was,

 

“Yo man, what’s up?!” What followed was a playful argument of a conversation between us. I can’t remember all of the details of what we said, although I’m sure I called him a, “jerk” and an, “idiot” at some point. I think he might have insulted my intelligence because I know what came out of my mouth was, “I’d like to think my intelligence is up higher than that, I’m a college student!” So he retorted back that he was a college student too, although I couldn’t hear what college he went to as the blender roared with my drink. I walked to the other counter and I think I was telling him something about, “Everybody’s at my college, that’s where it’s at! Cal State Long Beach!”

 

“Well, I’m thinking of moving back to Long Beach now that I’m single again!”

 

“…What?”

 

“I broke up with my girlfriend last night, and I’m so happy about that!” I knew in that instant that I couldn’t ask him out. I couldn’t let it show how f*****g happy I was to hear those words from him. I walked back to the break room and sipped happily away at my drink. Fantasies of getting closer to him popped into my head. I saw myself walking hand in hand with him by the beach and taking him to some points in Palos Verdes to look at the ocean and the setting sun. I could see myself holding him close to me and hearing his heartbeat. I could see myself looking into his blue eyes and burning his face into my memory forever. I could see myself falling in love with him.

 

The morning I met him had definitely given that sunny, September morning an even brighter glow. I was at work, nice and early as usual, and I wasn’t looking forward to working an eight o’clock shift. I hummed Darlene Love’s, “Boy I’m Gonna Marry” as I walked into the store, chalking it up to remembering that my coworker Michelle was getting married that very morning. I walked into the break room, sort of groggy, and I could hear Nicky in the break room talking to someone. As I walked down the hallway that led to the break room, there was someone sitting in one of the chairs. He was the only person I could see. I didn’t recognize him, so I got a better look as I got closer to my locker. My breath caught in my lungs and my mind was set on him. He had short, spiked blond hair, blue eyes and a beautifully carved face. I never did ask him how old he was, but I clocked him to be about in his mid or late twenties at most. As I did my morning carts, I kept thinking of him. At my lunch break, I decided that since I missed my coffee at home, I would make up for it by getting a drink at the Starbuck’s. I walked over to the Starbuck’s and I had to make up my mind what drink I wanted. I didn’t want to get a Vanilla Crème (for embarrassing reasons, ask my brother, he tells the story in a much funnier light than me, and when you hear it, you’ll understand why) and I knew I couldn’t just stand there in line all day and stare, so I looked up at the menu and looked for something that I could at least pretend to like.

 

“Can I get a tall Raspberry Mocha Frappacino?” I asked shyly, not meeting his eyes. I then asked shyly if my Preferred Card would work there and he said yes, and scanned my card. He asked me if I wanted whipped cream and I said yes as I moved to the other counter to get my drink. He then began to drizzle raspberry sauce on the whipped cream.

 

“Oh man, I wish you could see the sauce! Oh wait, you can’t.” I don’t actually think he was making a slam on my height, although I’m sure I couldn’t see it at least partially for that reason. I imagined his random dressing with the sauce must have looked like a masterpiece to him, so that piqued my curiosity. He passed my drink to me and I grabbed a straw.

 

“Thank you, come again!” he said in a Middle Eastern accent.

 

“Ok, Habib,” I said right back to him as I put my straw in my drink. I noticed that he just put ice in with the mix of mocha and coffee. I took a sip.

 

“Hey, this actually tastes good,” I said to myself as I took another sip. He remained on my mind the whole day, and when I had to clock out at two-thirty, I noticed he was coming my way, to the time clock. I leaned up against the wall, a vision of Reichen Lehmkuhl against a wall in nothing but his jeans, looking down with a gentle, humble smile on his face. Brian came to the time clock and he had to lean in a little bit to swipe his badge through the time clock. I couldn’t help but notice how his blond chest hair stuck out of the opening of his black Starbuck’s shirt. He was having trouble with the time clock, as all of the new people have, including me. He remained on my mind for the rest of that day, and I found myself looking forward to work for the first time.

 

One week later, he and I were working at the same time and I was leaving for lunch and I had to get my wallet out of my locker. I turned my head to see him at the time clock. There was a girl standing next to him, and he was struggling to swipe his badge through the time clock with his left hand, while holding a little boy in his right arm. My heart sank to my work shoes. I had already decided to go to Starbuck’s so Nicky made me my second Raspberry Mocha ever. I sat in the break room that day, depressed and annoyed that the bottom of my drink was flavored ice slush. Almost a week later, I was pulling carts for the first time in the rain. I grimaced when I saw Joseph dawning the yellow raincoat the store provided. When my hour began, I pulled the jacket on, feeling my skin sweat under the plastic coat even though it was freezing outside. I crossed the store to see what time it was, and then I saw him again, with the girl on his arm. Everything at that point that had been bothering me weighed even heavier as I saw him with her, in line at customer service. I didn’t try talking to him or even giving him eye contact or letting him know in any way shape or form that I acknowledged that he was there. I continued to pull carts in the rain as Denis Leary’s voice in my head yelled, “Life sucks, get a f*****g helmet!” My irritation shot out of the roof when I smelled cigarette smoke as I pulled the carts in the store. I wondered angrily who was smoking and as I pulled in a new batch of carts, I looked to my left, and lo and behold, squatting by one of the pillars in front of the store was Brian, enjoying the f**k out of his cigarette. I remembered my teacher’s voice from elementary school saying, “Nobody likes to kiss an ashtray!” and I continued to try and push the hope of ever getting with Brian out of my head. As far as baseball was concerned, Brian had three strikes, but as far as I was concerned, he was still up to bat. At some point, after Brian and his girlfriend left, I walked outside to bring in more carts and I noticed it wasn’t really raining anymore. I pulled back the hood and looked up to the cloudy sky.

 

“Ok,” I said to myself calmly. “I got the message.” Though still disappointed and afraid for my future, I continued to pull carts, somehow understanding that everything would be ok.

 

I continued to go to work, and look to the Starbuck’s, hoping to catch even a momentary glimpse of Brian. The best day happened, and would be the last thing to happen to me. That day, like all of my other days, all I had were a few minutes with him, in a few second intervals. I realized how pathetic it was to get excited to touch him, even for a second. Who knew that was my last time I’d ever be in contact with him? I was on such a huge high from just that momentary touch of his blond, hairy arm that I didn’t consider that his mentioning moving back to Long Beach would take effect so soon.

 

When I realized that Brian was gone, and probably gone for good, my day had taken a sad turn. I was locked into a five-hour shift with no one to vent or turn to. Only Rosie had suspected and outright accused me of liking Brian, and even if more people knew, I was not going to vent to them about him during work. And I certainly was not going to vent to the poor customers either. I drove home that night, hearing that there was a fifty percent chance of rain, and I knew it was coming by the clouds that were rolling in earlier that day. I told my friend Megan what was wrong, and as Jordin Spark’s “Tattoo” played on my computer speakers, I began to break down and cry. I vented out my depression and disappointment, and it bled into tears of frustration.

 

“I’ve survived three years of unrequited love,” I told Megan. “Why am I crying over a crush? How can I be losing it over a guy that I didn’t even have and probably didn’t even know my name?! Why am I losing my mind over him?!” Megan did her best to comfort me, and bless her for listening to me vent. Most people in her place would have just told me it was a crush and that I’d get over it. Sure, I would get over it, but I wasn’t over it yet, and whoever would tell me that would just have to shove what was left of my coffee up their a*s if they didn’t like it. I went to sleep to the sound of the pouring rain outside my window.

 

In my dream, my two classmates from elementary school, Pierre and Eddie were there. We caught up a lot, and noticing that Eddie was especially nice and close to me. I was even on the phone with him at some point, and told me that if I ever needed him, he’d be there, and even jump over the fences in my neighborhood from the house he was calling from just to get to me. In my dream, I valued his friendship and his support, and even considered thinking of him as a possible boyfriend if and when the time was right. The dream was healing in nature, and I realized that as I woke up for the day, with the lyrics of Michael Bolton’s, “Time, Love and Tenderness” playing in my mind.

 

It had stopped raining when I woke up.

Reviews

[Drew Wade]

This is a crazy story!!! It's good though. As you cycle between random Starbucks drinks and random song selections, you hit the right note more often than not. My favorite part of the story is the way you tell it. It's a past tense, but it's also like, way in the past. haha. I don't know how to describe it, but it's like the action has really already happened, and a person's not just saying it like it's happening now in the past tense. More of a recounting than an actual perspective. Does that make sense?

anyway, "I had just clocked out and I really needed to taste something sweet when things had unexpectedly, or was it that unexpected, gone sour." this doesn't make sense to me, but everything is going over my head today.

"I looked at the menu, and sure enough, its name no longer on the list." should there be a was in there??? hehehe. anyway. the only other thing i have an objection to was you saying that a guy had a shapely a*s.. egghhh.. umm, I don't know. maybe it's not a rule, but for me, only girls should have shapely asses. hahah. okay.

this was a great little story that really showed the true power of a starbucks drink.

[~LeeAnn~]

I am sorry to announce, that your poem was not chosen as one of the finalist in the Broken Hearts contest.
LeeAnn

[hhoosh]

The emotion was threaded well, and to say the least I felt it. The color and flavors of this story are an incredible binding that hides and shines beneath the sadness of the plot, which were a tad overwhelming at times but, again, the flavors and colors kept it alive.
Only issue I had with this story was that it held a run-on nature. I re-read a few parts twice, and the name drops definitely stunted the flow of it.
Other than that; well done. You've written fiction with touchable emotion.

[Anne Hill]

I loved this, thank you so much for entering it into my contest! I understand this "crush" situation. It's one of those things that sound rediculous to other people, but it is what gets you through the day.

[xRetroCortx]

totally brilliant

[ABBY]

WOW soo well writen

[DarkAngelWriter]

Awies. I love this. A tad confusing (because I was too absorbed in the characters to follow it all that well), but I'll ask you questions on msn! Lol!

"I didn't want to get a Vanilla Cr�me (for embarrassing reasons, ask my brother, he tells the story in a much funnier light than me, and when you hear it, you'll understand why)"
^^^ Chuckled at that! You've managed to combine some amusement with sadness longing and all those other horrible emotions that ignored love comes with- and done very well might I add :) I love how it all ties up optimistically though with: "It had stopped raining when I woke up."
Nice finish, real sweet and smooth :)
Well Done :) xxx