A Meet-Cute in Three Acts

A Meet-Cute in Three Acts

Act 1: Aromatic Beginnings

Calgary curled her hand around her phone so no one could see her WhatsApp group chat. As if anyone in this coffee shop gave a damn about her endless boy troubles, or those of her friends.

Calgary: I am spending way too much time in this place! The coffee is amazing, but I can’t do about 95% of my work here because it is not secure.

Rachel: Can’t you get a normal job? I work in coffee shops all over the city every day, and no one cares.

Calgary: I have a normal job. It just sometimes involves state secrets. 😉🕵️

Jocelyn: Yeah, I think you need to look up the meaning of the word “normal.”

Calgary: Can we get back to the topic at hand?

Jocelyn: Which is?

Rachel: FFS Cal, just ask him out!

Calgary: He is ridiculously gorgeous, the high school girls compete to get a table in his eyeline, and he manages a coffee shop. I hate asking men out for one, especially gorgeous men, and I only ever do first dates at coffee places. Short. Cheap. Easy exit. Even if I got up the nerve, I can’t ask him to coffee because, as mentioned, manager of a coffee shop. And this coffee shop has the best doppio in the District, so if I asked him for coffee not only would it be weird, but I would have to take him for coffee I know is below his standards. That is like 3 levels of lame.

Rachel: Three levels of lame? How many levels of lame is it to sit in the coffee shop for hours every week in the hope that the manager will ask you out? It seems like more than three.

Jocelyn: Cold. Accurate. Still cold.

Calgary: Fine. You realize that I lose access to the only decent coffee within ten blocks of Federal Triangle if I ask and flame out.

Rachel: The price we pay to find our soulmates. “Oh, true barista, thy drugs are quick.” Juliet had nothing on you.

Calgary: CS majors should never become friends with drama majors. It never works.

Rachel: We’ve been friends for 14 years

Jocelyn: That is nothing in geological time.

Rachel: Cal, freaking ask him out. I cannot take it anymore. You will either soar or find other good doppio dispensaries.

Calgary: That is easy for you to say. Portland in general and the Alberta district specifically are lousy with great coffee; DC is not Portland and I need places between the Metro and the office. Federal Triangle has 27 Starbucks, and this one place with great coffee. Starbucks is fine, but I would really miss this. I grew up in Seattle. I will literally die without good coffee.

Jocelyn: Do you hear yourself?

Calgary: I do now. Fine. I am going in. I will report back

Calgary made her way toward Hot Manager with her game face on. His hair looked really good today. Extra floppy. Programmers never had good floppy hair. Pep talk time, “Calgary, you have been smiling and nodding for over a month. He smiles back every time, makes sustained eye contact, and it does not look like a customer service smile. Just do . . .”

“Hi there. Everything all right?”

Hot Manager was speaking, and an answer was required. She knew that. And yet none was forthcoming. “Can I help with something? I see you here all the time. You always seem so focused. Is the music too loud? Do you not like Father John Misty? I can change it if you like.”

“No, sorry, just distracted, I guess. I’m Calgary.”

“I know you are Calgary. I write it on your cup most days. And it is a memorable name. It is really pretty. I have never known another Calgary, but I am somehow sure you look like a Calgary.”

She laughed in a weird combination of nervousness and relief. Nervousness because apparently it was go time and relief because she was pretty sure he would not be babbling like this if he wasn’t interested in her.

“My mother is Canadian. She was dying to move to the States, and doesn’t go back much, but given our names, she is apparently still nostalgic. My name is Calgary and my sister is Alberta. We are forever grateful she did not opt for Saskatoon or Okotoks”

He laughed, and it was warm and personal. Definitely not a customer service laugh. She could do this. Deep breath – but before she could exhale, he spoke.

“Hey, I have been wanting to talk to you for a while, but I only see you here, so I didn’t want to ask you out for coffee. I don’t want to meet up here in front of the whole staff, and I don’t really like Starbucks.”

Now it was her turn to laugh, though he would never guess that they had that mind meld. If things worked out, she would tell him eventually. For now, she went with, “What would you say to a drink not made from a bean?”

And he immediately answered, “I would say yes.”

“A friend of mine is playing at Madam’s Organ in Woodley Park on Thursday at 7, Maybe we could meet around 6:00 and talk for a while before he starts? He’s good, I promise.”

“I honestly don’t care if he is good. It’s a date. I will meet you there.”

She started to turn to gather her things when he said, “Hey, Calgary, can I see your phone?” She smiled as she turned around and handed it to him. He typed in his number and called himself. She looked down at her phone. “Brendan” was glowing on her screen.

“Shit!” she had never asked his name. “I am not good at this at all.”

Brendan laughed again, “I think you are fantastic.”

Calgary smiled and shuttled out of the shop as fast as she could, before she could foul things up. Also, she needed to message the crew, and she needed to get some work done. Brendan watched her leave, his thoughts decidedly not on his job until his co-worker’s voice cut through the trance.

Act 2: A Declaration of Intent, But Not to the Intended

“Hey bossman, the pep squad is throwing heart-eyes your way again.”

Brendan looked over at Chelsea, who was leaning against the counter. Her jaw clenched and lips pressed together to hold back a laugh.

“Leave them be, Chels, they’re sweet and harmless.”

That comment made the repressed laugh burst free. “Brendan, as someone who was a high school girl about five years ago, I feel the need to tell you that there is a maybe 50/50 chance that they are sweet, and about a 12% chance that they are harmless.”

Brendan rolled his eyes, “Fair enough Chels, but I think I can handle it. They have a little crush, it happens. I had crushes when I was 16, too.”

“You have crushes now. I saw you chatting up that woman who comes in all the time. Callie?”

“Calgary”

“Ah, we have a name. Do we have a date?”

“We do. I know this is girly, but I am already trying to decide of we will be Calgadon or Brangary.”

“Well then, you have gone full girl. It’s working for you. As part of Team Calgadon, the lady’s name goes first, I think we may want to do something about your fan club. We don’t want Calgary to think you are taken.”

“You are such an ass, Chelsea. They are fine. They come in here three days a week and between the three of them drop about 30 bucks each time. If they want to ogle the merch, I’ll allow it.”

“OMG, ‘ogle the merch!’ I am the ass? I swear, boys like you make me wish I were a lesbian.”

“I totally understand that,” Brendan said with a grin. “Maybe you’re right though, maybe I should head over and crush their dreams.”

“Hold on, let me get my popcorn. And don’t be nice!”

“I am always nice.”

“Dammit, you are. Anyway, go in and take care of business.”

Brendan strolled over to the girls with an assortment of bar cookies. “Hello, ladies, how are things going today?”

All three of the girls slid their eyes up to Brendan’s face with expressions of wariness and hope. He immediately felt like a monster.

“You are such good customers, I thought I would offer a thank you. I have a blondie, a brownie and a lemon bar to go with those lattes.” There was another long beat of silence before one of the girls spoke.

“Thank you so much!” she reached out for the plate, “I am Eva. We really like this place. We always come here after Model UN, which is on Mondays and Wednesdays. You seem to work a lot.”

Brendan clocked the rush of words, too many, too fast, too much information. He guessed the humane thing was to manage expectations.

“I did Model UN, too. But, like a decade ago. Do you go to Jackson-Reed?”

“No, Georgetown.”

“Georgetown?”

“Um, Georgetown Day School”

“Ah, cool. I am at the other Georgetown. Finishing up my doctorate.”

“Your doctorate? You’re a grad student? Um. Wow.”

She looked like he had reached in and plucked out her spleen through her windpipe. Brendan was suddenly quite sure he should have kept his pastries to himself and just left things alone until this girl got bored of staring at him from afar. They were clearly at cross-purposes. She wanted to hook up, and he was far too old for her, and as of about 20 minutes ago, already comprehensively hooked.

“Yeah. In international relations. That is why I was so interested in your Model UN work. It was the best. Do you guys ever bring in people working in the field to help out? If you want to recommend me, I would be happy to come in to offer some coaching. I work some with our undergrads.”

Eva’s eyes lit up. For the first time since the conversation started, she looked confident and a little crafty. “That sounds great, Brendan.” She handed over her cell. “Why don’t you put your number in, and I will call you after I talk to the coach.”

“Sure thing,” Brendan keyed in the name and number and handed back the phone. Just as he expected, she immediately hit send. When the coffee shop phone rang from behind the counter, her face crumpled. Brendan heard Chelsea’s booming chortle as if she were standing behind him.

“Hope to see you at Model UN, Eva,” Brendan said as he walked away. He was actually looking forward to the coach’s call, and to telling Calgary about his new volunteer commitment.

Act 3: Overcoming the Transportation Authority’s War on Happily Ever After

Calgary moved her phone in every direction, trying to get a signal. Of course, the first date with the first guy in whom she had any interest in months, maybe years, and she was going to be late. Not just late but stuck in the train with zero reception. She repeatedly stabbed at the contact. Brendan, Brendan. Brendan. Nothing. She turned off wi-fi, thinking maybe if she switched over to mobile, things might improve. No go. They were between stations.

“Thanks, universe.”

“Excuse me?” The woman next to her looked at her curiously

“Did I say that out loud? Sorry! I was just frustrated.”

“No problem, I am the world’s biggest fan of public transit until I’m not.”

Both women smiled and nodded and went back to their own private dramas.

Though there was no reason to think it would accomplish anything, Calgary continued to move her phone around and hit Brendan’s contact. She felt the lump in her throat an instant before tears came to her eyes. She swiped at them and sniffed. To her surprise, the woman next to her reached into her bag and without raising her eyes from her Kindle, handed her a sealed pack of Kleenex. Calgary laughed ruefully.

“Thank you. I feel like an idiot. I can’t believe I am crying because this stupid train is making me stand up a guy who seems amazing and who finally asked me out. And oh my god I am so sorry I am bothering you with this! It is just nerves. Thanks for Kleenex. Really.”

“I would cry too. Really, how often do you meet someone you actually want to go out with?

“Right? Thank you for that. I have been trying to catch this guy’s attention for months, and it finally happened. And now this.”

“Months? Either you were not trying hard, or he is blind. You’re gorgeous.”

“Forget him. Now I am all yours!”

Both women laughed, nodded, and moved their eyes back to their screens.

“One minute. Who’s your provider?”

“T-Mobile”

“Let me see if I can get anything. I have Verizon, and sometimes there is a closer tower.” The woman took her phone out of her bag and held it up. “I have one bar. It might work. Give me his number and I will text for you.”

“Thank you!” Calgary scrambled to get open Brendan’s contact and read out the number to her new friend. “His name is Brendan. Tell him Calgary is stuck on the Red Line.”

“Calgary? Your name is Calgary? Wow. Um, I am from Edmonton.”

“Holy shit, you’re Canadian? That’s why you’re so nice!”

“It’s a myth, Canadians are just quieter in our fury, and better at subtle attacks. But yeah, I grew up in Edmonton. You are from Alberta, too?”

“No, I grew up in Seattle, went to school in Boston, and have been here since then. My mom is from Calgary. Also, my sister’s name is Alberta.”

“Well, this is fate. I am Kate by the way. I sent the message. Hopefully, Brendan is reading as we speak.”

With a screech and a fully indecipherable announcement, the train started up, and in moments, they were in the station, 30 minutes late, but there.

“Thank you, Kate. It was so good to meet you.”

“Run, go get Brendan!”

Calgary bolted from the train toward the escalator and ran straight into a panicked Brendan. They stared at one another in confusion.

“What are you doing here, he said. “I was stuck on the train and couldn’t text. I tried over and over, but nothing would go through. I assumed you would have come and gone from the bar already.”

“Me too!” said Calgary. “I mean, me too. I was stuck on the train, and I couldn’t text, and I assumed you would have come and gone from the bar already.”

“Well. This seems like fate.”

Right then, Kate walked by and stopped, looked at Calgary, and laughed. “Brendan, I presume?”

“Brendan, this is Kate, our fairy godmother. She texted you, or at least tried to, when I could not.”

Brendon looked down at his phone and up at Kate, “You are 771-555-8345, I assume?”

“Okay, I guess I'm the fairy godmother. Well then, Brendan, I think that makes you Prince Charming.”

“I sure as hell hope so.”

“Kate, I owe you. Can we buy you a drink?”

“Absolutely not. Go have that date. And Calgary? Call me. Brendan has my number in his phone.”