my scheme has worked flawlessly. she’s mine. 2 months of attending the same coffee shop. i walk in each weekday in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. hair unkempt. beard unkempt. i order a coffee from the gorgeous black haired barista. i am friendly and conversational, but only for a short while. i politely say goodbye after 5 minutes. i grab my coffee and leave.
today i executed my attack. i entered the store wearing a blue bruno cucinelli suit. bone white shirt. brown tie. polished shoes. body doused in cologne. teeth whitening completed yesterday via groupon. hair and beard a white supremacist dogwhistle. phone to my ear faking a very important business call.
she nearly freezes in place when she sees me pass through the threshold into the store. she’s almost let the milk froth for too long. i am unrecognizable to her. and yet i am a familiar force. memories of our past interactions flash in her head. “he was always nice to me. he did always tip kindly. he did always hold the door for others. had i just not Seen him?”
i approach the counter and motion for the usual while pointing at my phone, the perfunctory gesture indicating one is apologetic for their impoliteness but sadly unable to remove themselves from the phone call. she views me now as more than some bummy customer. i am now a romantic entity in her mind. she has yet to start making my drink. she is preoccupied. i make eye contact. she smiles and begins.
i continue to fake the phone call. when the coffee is complete i take it from the counter and pay $10 cash and quickly leave the store.
she has no idea what has just happened.
i take a sharp right around the corner and out of sight of the cafe. i throw my full coffee in the garbage as i have done for the last 2 months. i quit years ago. i then set a timer on my phone.
when the six minutes are up i head back to the coffee shop. i enter confidently with the smallest hint of sheepishness. i head straight toward her. she sees me approaching. we make eye contact. i smile. she has no idea what is happening.
i tell her im sorry to have been so rude this morning. i tell her i didn’t mean to do the weird hand gesture i was just caught up on the phone.
i move in for the kill. when do you get off? wanna walk around the neighborhood? ill buy you a cup to make up for my behavior.
she says yes. i will see her in just a few hours. she has no idea what sort of machiavellian plot i had to devise for our souls to entwine on this fateful morning.
she will break my heart like they always do. i hate women
Loyal townsmen of the Carolinas,
I humbly ask you to retweet my dispatches as if they were intercepted letters from enemy lines. Too many camp followers remain unaware, but with your aid we shall spread war cries, mischief, Panther pride, and glory across the land.
—Bryce
Dearest mother,
Supreme Chancellor Tepper visited the infirmary today to wish me a swift recovery. Though he’s a bald man who often looks like he just lost a chess match to a squirrel, he vowed to provide whatever I need to heal quickly. Perhaps he’s not so bad after all. —Bryce
Cranking your hog is truly life changing
One minute you are ready to co-sign a car for a chick and the next thing you know you realize you might hate her
@Marksman New guns are cool, but I wish they would have balanced the weapons some. Jackal is in EVERY S&D game. Shotguns are still too mid. Game is still more fun than the last one. Cross platform restriction would be nice in all modes. (Just for when the matchmaking makes it tough)
Congrats to @athielen19 on 12 amazing seasons in the NFL 🥳
Your drive and dedication is inspiring.
Today is also the last day to vote Adam for the Walter Payton Man of the Year award!
Vote here ➡️ https://t.co/hlEZpxzrCE
or retweet to vote!
#WPMOYChallenge@athielen19
One of the craziest things about the Bryce Young resurgence is it wouldn’t have happened with the Carolina Panthers if Andy Dalton didn’t injure his thumb in a car wreck.