I'm the Norm

Ok, I have a problem.

Well I have several problems but the one pertaining to this blog is this: I find places I like and I tend to keep going to them.

And it has to be more than just the food. I have to like the environment and the people. Hell, I go to Fred 62 for the joy of chatting with Cory, as much as eating pancakes and eggs. So I tend to become "the regular" at places I like, and that makes this next tale even more heartbreaking.

With the loss of my most favorite place in the world, I have been wandering the city trying to find a new place where I can eat and write. My friend Aaron, also a Grounds refugee, convinced me to try this place on Melrose called Blu Jam Cafe.

It's a cool little place nestled in the middle of the trendy shopping strip that you have seen in every movie that a character has utter the phrase "We need to go to Hollywood". the owner is this avatar of the successful immigrant. he makes sure he meets his new customers and always is cooking up some new special based on his mom's cooking.

Anyway, Aaron drags me in there and the first things I notice are they make a fabulous latte and the waitstaff is made up of a bunch of cute non-trendy girls and a couple of goofy guys. The ice around my broken heart melts a bit and whispers "can we stay here, father?" I have often wondered why my heart sounds like Dakota Fanning, but I can never say no to my heart.

Flash forward a few months. Aaron has gotten married and I never see him anymore but now I know all the day staff and we have inside jokes about lattes. Don't ask, it's a regular thing. So i am sitting at my usual place and writing up a future MWC when Coco comes over.

Coco is like 5 feet tall in shoes, olive skinned with that fearless kind of attitude that always will encourage you to tip more than minimum. When she smiles it makes you sad to know that eventually she will stop and you just hold on to hope that she won't be looking at you when that happens.

She is also playfully nosy.

"Whatcha writin'? A LOOOOVE letter to me?"

Now the thing about writing this blog is that until this very moment, it had never occurred to me how awkward it would be to tell someone you might write about them on the Internet. I mean I try to write from a good place and not that weird "Eventually the FBI will review this blog for clues" place. But when confronted like this, I suddenly saw how this could only look like the latter.

So I lied.

"Writing my diary. "Dear Diary, I just got the world's best latte from the cutest girl in the world...BUT SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW MY NAME!" I may have even batted my eyelash for effect.

"Of course I know your...name" AHA! an opening to turn the conversation to my favor!

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! You are the regular guy! The Norm! Your name is..." now in all fairness, I thought one of the other waitrons would either say it or she was gonna let it drop, so I was surprised when she finished the sentence, "Captain Awesome or Johnny Coffee!"

We laughed and then I admitted I actually didn't know her name. Why should I complain? Hell usually I get nicknamed for the fat white guy that would rather stay in a bar than go home to his family. Johnny Coffee seems like a nice step up.