Crazydates

I Dated A Coffee Fanatic...

I loathe being set up but I relented. It's that familiar scenario: your friends, convinced they know your soul, present you with their idea of the perfect match. They utter those dreaded words: "You guys would be perfect together." I should have declined politely when my best friend Suzie insisted she had found the ideal guy for me.

Suzie has been in a blissful relationship with Simon for over a year. They met through a mutual friend, and it worked out wonderfully for them. In her desire to pay it forward, Suzie decided to play matchmaker for me. I was indifferent about the whole thing, but Suzie wouldn't take no for an answer. She can be endearingly persistent, yet also exasperating.

The plan was for the four of us to meet at a coffee shop Saturday afternoon and, if all went well, possibly have dinner afterward. I deliberately arrived last, allowing me to catch a glimpse of the guy before he laid eyes on me. If he looked terrible, I could make a quick escape out the back. To my surprise, he wasn't repulsive. Perhaps a bit heavier than I preferred, but not utterly repugnant. I hope that doesn't sound cruel, but physical attraction does matter to me. Call me shallow.

He joined the group at the table, introductions were made, and his name was Felix. He lived just around the corner from the coffee shop and seemed to be acquainted with everyone there. When I jokingly referred to the place as his "Cheers," he looked at me as though I had two heads. Suzie and I found it amusing. Being a bit of a mansplainer, Felix proceeded to inform us that he possessed a wealth of knowledge about coffee, and he went on to educate us about pour-overs versus drip, the nuances of different bean aromas, tamping, roasting and so on.

After what felt like an eternity of tedious coffee analysis, I suggested that we simply order our drinks. I was craving a cappuccino and began to place my order, but Felix interjected, insisting it was inappropriate to have one at this time of day. According to him, in Italy, I would be ridiculed for such a choice. He wanted to spare me from embarrassment and ordered a pour-over dark roast fair trade coffee from Guatemala instead. He assured me that I would be far more content with this selection than the drink I truly desired. I glanced at Suzie and Simon, who had already ordered their coffees and were sipping them at the table.

The pour-over took an eternity, leaving me trapped as Felix rambled incessantly about coffee and the various coffee shops he had visited worldwide. I made every effort to be polite, nodding and smiling, but deep down, I longed to scream and be anywhere but there. Finally, the coffee was ready, and I went to the counter to pay. It turned out that Felix didn't have his wallet, and two cups of this gourmet coffee amounted to $20. Could things get any worse? We grabbed our coffees and sat down. As soon as I took a sip, the taste was so bitter and repulsive that I involuntarily spat it out, drenching Felix and his hipster retro T-shirt. It was the most revolting, acrid concoction I had ever tasted. All I had truly wanted was a delightful, creamy cappuccino. In disgust, Felix stood up and walked out. I called out an apology, but he either pretended not to hear or simply didn't care.

Needless to say, I never crossed paths with Felix again, and I have yet to forgive Suzie. Oh, by the way, it's nearly 3 PM, and I'm sipping a cappuccino. I apologize for my actions.

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