So today, having nothing better to do, I took my lonesome on a date.I saw the French romantic comedy "Priceless" (Hors de Prix). It was a bit of fluff, sort of like "Breakfast at Tiffany's" set in the South of France in 2006.
It was cute.
While waiting I had an iced coffee at Starbucks. The guy behind the counter took my order, asked my name and slowly, carefully wrote it on my plastic cup.
He handed me my change, but it fell short and rained onto the floor.
He apologized profusely. I picked it up and gave him a large tip.
Like the movie, he was cute.
I took my cup and noticed that he'd written "Jeison."
I mean really, who doesn't know how to spell Jason?
He was cute though.
4 comments:
Although, I do think "Jeison" has a certain flourish.
I imagine a young, toothsome gayling named Jason from, say, the Black Hills of the Dakotas, arriving in New York by Greyhound, and deciding then and there that he would henceforth be known as "Jeison" -- accent on the second syllable, please.
who ends his days working in the third busiest Starbucks in Newark, still with the accent on the second syllable please.
Miss J is leavign this sweet story alone. Long live Jeison.
I'm totally changing my name to "Deive."
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