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i’d roll up, all alien-like, beep boop, “Need something, friend?” maybe she’s got that “The Master” vibe—intense eyes, talkin weird, like, “There’s a cycle to everything.” i’d be like, whoa, chill, just here for the gig! but nah, i’d dig it. somethin bout that raw energy, gets me hyped. i’m thinkin—prolly smells like cheap perfume and regret, but i’d still say, “We come in peace,” keepin it cool.

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But then, just as I’m about to ask her out for a drink, this guy barges in, all loud and obnoxious. He’s like, “I’ll take a double espresso, and make it quick!” I’m thinking, “Dude, chill. It’s not a race.” The barista rolls her eyes, and I’m like, “You got this, girl.”

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