knowing my coffee order...

I have a regular coffee shop...awakenings...i have developed an affinity for espresso shots, which they pour to taste like caramel, and I down with one or two gulps...I know it's uncooth, but I'm in Ohio...where it's still pronounced EX-presso. Anyway, I go in almost every morning, as it is right down the block from work, and frankly, it's the only time I can get a decent cuppa. There are the various assortment of barista boys...I only know two by name and while neither of them are crushable (to me), they sometimes upgrade my drink order to double shots, and never charge me for soymilk. Anyway, today...the "other" barista...the part-time graphic designer...was behind the counter, and called out my order before I could...it's the little things like that, on a chilly spring morning that kind of feel like a hug and a smooch. Tonight I am invited to an "evening" at a fancy restaurant by the bachelors of cincinnati...and I'm going, even though it might be a farce...I have the VCR set to tape The Office, and my roommates are advising me on make-up tips and clothing...and I just hope there's someone there worth talking to. And I hope there's a decent meal...cafeteria food sits kinda heavy, you know?