Hella Fuckin' Gay
Chloe could not believe the sign she was reading right now. It just seemed so impossible that anyone could pull something like this without getting fired. Sure, it wasn’t a chain or anything, but still, most people can’t manage a sign just inside the door of a coffee shop that read:
Today your Barista is
1. Hella fucking gay
2. Desperately single
For your drink today I recommend:
You give me your number.
There was no way. It could not be her, right? There was a little sketch of a person next to the message, but it was not discernible among the baristas. However, Chloe came here all the time, and when she lifted her eyes, there was a girl in particular she was hoping to see.
And there, as if by a miracle, she saw her. Several inches shorter than Chloe with long blonde hair and these like, hella full pink lips that stretched into a wide, teeth-slightly-baring smile when she made eye contact with Chloe. She was just setting a drink down for a customer near the other side of the store, and as she quickly made her way to the counter, Chloe gave a sheepish smile, stuffing her hands in her jeans as she shuffled over to the point of sales.
“Hey there, what can I get for you?” God, her smile was brilliant. She was always so nice, and Chloe just took it as her being good at her job. She had never dared to ask before, as she didn’t want to be some shit stain who hit on girls at work, but now she was a little tongue tied as she tried to think of what to say.
So, she went with something easier. “I’ll … uh. Get a grande salted caramel frappuchino. And, um, with 2% please.” She made herself break eye contact while she fished into her wallet for the necessary cash, but it didn’t take long before she looked back up at Rachel. Rachel was pretty, sure, but Chloe hadn’t exactly had a plan on asking her out before this. Like, she hadn’t really seen her around much because she was a year older at school, but she knew that Rachel was simultaneously much more skater punk and much more Vortex club material than Chloe.
“Do you want your receipt?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Chloe got her change back and sat down at one of the tables scattered around, but she couldn’t stop watching Rachel go about making her drink now, and occasionally the skater barista’s eyes would dart over to the twitchy blue-haired punk, and a bit of a smirk would descend on her face.
“Chloe? Salted caramel frapp?” Rachel’s eyes made a bit of a game of wandering around the shop as if looking for her, even though everyone else in the store already had their drink. As Chloe stood up like a bolt, recognized her eagerness looked strange, and thus shoved her hands in her pockets, Rachel’s eyes locked on her and the smirk returned.
Chloe made her way to the counter. “Here you go, Chloe.” Chloe lifted up her frappucinno and removed the remaining piece of straw paper from the top of it. Rachel seemed to hesitate at the counter for a moment, and so did Chloe.
Chloe opened up her other hand a little, which contained her crumbled, then uncrumbled, then written-upon receipt. “Here, um. I thought you might want this.” Chloe reached out with the receipt, and as Rachel saw the digits scrawled on it, her broad smile broke out again.
“Thank you,” she said, and lifted it delicately from her hand.
Chloe swallowed nervously.
Then, someone else entered into the shop. Chloe’s head turned, expecting a customer, but instead she saw one of the other baristas from the shop - Greg, one of the skater boys, and a senior. She didn’t think too much of it, but then Rachel broke out giggling.
Rachel held the receipt aloft. “Hey, Greg - it looks like your sign works out for everyone.”
He looked over, and noticed the proximity of Chloe, already holding her drink, and Rachel, right up against the counter. Then he cracked a smile. “Sweet deal, I guess.”
Chloe looked from him back to Rachel, confused. “Huh?” was all she produced.
Rachel somewhat purposefully did not make eye contact with Chloe for this, gesturing over to Greg. “It’s his sign. He’s the hella fuckin’ gay one.”
Greg raised his fingers to form the symbol of rock on as Chloe’s face rushed towards paralyzed, brick red. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry, I thought,”
Rachel shook her head briefly, and then said quietly, “I’ll text you.”
And Chloe walked out in a daze, embarrassed and excited in the extreme. There was no way, right? There was no way in hell …