The Coffee Guy & I

As I drag my feet towards class 3 evenings a week after work, two thoughts usually cross my mind - 1) Thank goodness I'm enjoying what I'm doing 2) Why isn't it Friday yet?

But of late, my Coffee Guy has sweetened up not only my coffee but my evenings. Coffee Guy is one of many trusty New York street vendors who can get you anything from a hot dog to a scone in less than 2 seconds. But mine is special.

For starters, he is mad cute. Yeah, you read right - mad cute. He has a charming Middle-Eastern accent that does not remind you of an old Indian man who does business in Dubai. If he were a doctor, your parents would want you to bring him home. If Mira Nair bought coffee from him, she would want to cast him in a movie. He is not devastatingly handsome in the least, just very cute and sweet. I'm sure some older Coffee Guy's daughter is in love with him. I want to know his name, but that may take the relationship to a whole other level it does not need to be at.

He also calls me sweetie. I don't mind this. Half of the male population in New York will call you sweetie just for being female and standing within 2 feet of them - the fact that you are swiping your Metrocard or buying coffee is not taken into consideration. It's the way he says it that is so endearing. It is very relaxed and nonchalant, not sleazy. He's not trying to make you feel special by calling you sweetie. It would be gross if he tried to make you feel special. So the fact that he's not even trying makes it all the more appealing.

I admit that I may have unintentionally thrown myself into some sub-special but unique category with a sprightly "Eid Mubarak!" a few months ago. I'm a dork. It was Eid, I have some friends who celebrate, and as Coffee Guy blared his Arabic pop music that day, I couldn't help but wish him. Risky, considering he may not have been a practising Muslim (I learned my lesson when I wished the same to a friend in class only to learn that she is in fact, not one). But his face lit up and it was worth it.

Now, every so often, he gives me back the extra quarter I paid for the medium coffee or gives me a free donut. Last night it was a raisin scone. I felt terrible. I smiled and said "No thank you", but he insisted and I thought it was sort of wrong not to take something from someone who so clearly could profit from keeping it but really wants you to have a bite before you hit class. Or wants to buy your love with food. Hey, no one has ever tried that one before...!

No, I'm not having an affair with Coffee Guy. But I really, really, really appreciate him. The only way I can think of thanking him is ordering more things and overpaying, but I know he'll try to give me the money back. It's worse than friends fighting over the dinner bill.

I'm sure Coffee Guy will make some woman very happy some day. Until then, I'll try to support his Arabic radio habit as much as possible and hope that he doesn't gift me 10 lbs worth of donuts and scones.