Thanks for being my friend. It doesn't even bother me that three weeks and you didn't know me then the day after I came in with short, (very very short) uneven (asymmetrical said my stylist) hair was when you started acknowledging our daily 1pm coffee date - I guess my hair would look good with your tats, no? I know I haven't made our relationship easy on you, ordering on the fly anything from long black to skinny cap, and sometimes but only on cold days when I have a sweet tooth a flat white. I know I make it difficult. You look at me expectantly and try and guess my mood but you're rarely right. It's not your fault.
I don't know how to tell you you put too much milk in your latte and you're cappuccino foam is lackluster. You don't make leafs or hearts and sometimes you're grumpy and I can tell by the way you say "what will it be today?" brusquely to me. Also you have bleached tips in your hair...why? But it's OK because you remember me when I come in and dare I say you will miss me when I am gone? I dare...I dare. I'll miss you too but I have to tell you, it's been 8 months and 7 days since I have had a brewed coffee and I can't freaking wait. OK I know I said I am going to miss the "prettiness" of coffee here, and of course the cafe culture but I am not as shallow as I seem.
So my barista who knows nothing about the art of coffee. I'll miss you, and I am not quite sure how to tell you I'm leaving you. I'm not losing sleep over it yet but it feels insensitive to leave you in the lurch. After all who else is going to hang out with you for the 2.5 minutes it takes you to make my warm milk with a splash of espresso and take my $3AUD at 1 in afternoon?
XOXO,
One O'clock w/ the Uneven Hair
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