Tag Archives: Starbucks

Additional Headcount.

“TRACEY,” Lux said. “Were you nice?”

“Yes, I was nice,” I said, as I opened my laptop.

“But were you POSITIVE?” She took a sip of her Starbucks. This was her third Venti of the day. And well…it showed.

“Yes Lux,” I sighed. “I was positive.”

“Did you talk about The Cat?” asked Floyd from across the conference room table.

“Oh my god,” Lux gasped. “Did you? Did you talk about The Cat?”

“No. I did not talk about The Cat.”

“Well, what was it then?” asked Lainie, as she reached for a bribery cookie. These cookies were the only way I got people to come to these meetings.

“Guys, I don’t know. He just wasn’t into me. Let’s move on.” I had gathered the members of my Social Media Marketing Team in order to brainstorm ideas on how to get a big surge of readers before our One Year Anniversary Party, which was coming up soon. Instead, all they wanted to discuss was my failure with Date Five.

Complete. Chaos.

As usual.

Continue reading Additional Headcount.

Business As Usual.

“So, have you been sssssssexting?”

“What?” I was engrossed in RJ’s credit card statement, trying to reconcile his expenses.

“Sssssssexting,” Archie said again. He leaned over my office cube wall. “You and Jonathan. Have you been sssssssexting?”

I looked up at him. “Why are you saying it like that?”

“Because it makes it sound ssssssssexy.”

I squinted at him. “Are you drunk right now?”
Continue reading Business As Usual.

90 Days. Part Three.

I’d always had a vision of how it would play out when I’d meet him face to face. I’d be looking fabulous, perhaps in a pair of tiny black leather shorts, a fitted top that showed a hint of cleavage, yet was still classy, and to-die-for overpriced heels. My legs would be firm, tan and stubble-free. My hair would be long and blowing around me like a Clairol commercial. My makeup would accentuate my features to the most alluring degree but not be overbearing or garish. My nails would do Lux proud. I’d strut over to him to the tune of Christina Aguilera’s ‘Fighter’ and I would get in his face and say everything I’d ever wanted to say.

I’d make him admit the truth. Finally.

As Christina sang out, “Thought I would forget, but I remember. Yes, I remember, I’ll remember!” I’d turn on my stiletto heel and leave him in a puddling mess of his own tears.

As it turns out, it didn’t go as planned.

Continue reading 90 Days. Part Three.

90 Days. Part One.

I was running late for work. Normally, I don’t worry too much about this because:  1) I always seem to arrive before my bosses, and:  2) I’m not entirely sure my bosses actually know what my hours are.

But as I left my apartment that morning, I got a little worried. Continue reading 90 Days. Part One.

Date Three. Part Two.

“You clearly didn’t think this through, did you?” asked Archie.

“Noooo,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “No, I didn’t.”

He sighed.

“What’s going on? How was the date last night?” Lux appeared at my desk. She was holding a large Starbucks coffee and was still wearing her coat.

“The date was amazing,” Archie answered. “Like the best stranger first-date ever.”

“Really??” she asked. Her eyes were shining.

“Yes,” Archie continued. “They bonded over comedies from the 70s and their love of cheese and talked about her Fitbit and talked about their families and even have a lot of similar goals.”

“He even asked to see a picture of the cat,” I said sadly.

“And he’s totally allergic and doesn’t like them. So that’s a big deal,” Archie said. He took a sip from his own large Starbucks coffee.

I looked down at my thumb and picked at the smudged polish. “He said he’d just take Claritin.”

Lux shook her head. “So I don’t get it. What’s with the face? This is all great!”

“He’s asked her out again and sent his personal email.”


“It’s – ” Archie started.

“It’s got his full name in it,” I broke in, pointing at my laptop screen, which displayed Bradley’s message.

“Oh good,” she said. “Did you google him?”

“Of course I did.” I rolled my eyes at her. “And he’s exactly who he says he is.”

“That’s the problem,” said Archie.

The realization set in and the mood darkened.

“Oooh,” she breathed. “And you can’t send him your email because it has your last name and he’d google you and see the blog.”

“Exactly,” Archie said with resignation.
Continue reading Date Three. Part Two.

Come for the Chicks, Stay for the Wings.

“It was so great to see you guys,” I said, as I pulled my sleeping-bag jacket firmly around me. Everyone hates this jacket because it’s totally unflattering, (“Boxy,” Sheri has decreed). But I like it because it’s long enough that if I wear tall boots, no one can tell I’m wearing my pajamas while I run errands around the neighborhood.

“You too, girlie,” Thalia said. She zipped up her own coat. Cold weather had officially settled in NYC.

“If I don’t talk to you ladies beforehand, have a great Thanksgiving,” said Sean. I moved in to give him a hug and he hugged me back tightly.

Thalia, Sean and I had met for our usual two-month catch up session. Normally, we meet on a Saturday evening at my place so I can wow them with my culinary skills with such menu-dazzlers as, ‘Make-Your-Own-Taco-Bar’ or ‘Make-Your-Own-Burrito-Bar’ or, if I am feeling especially creative, ‘Make-Your-Own-Taco-Salad-Bar IN A TACO SHELL BOWL.’ But since it was almost the holidays and everyone was busy, we decided to meet on a Tuesday. Which meant Hooters. Continue reading Come for the Chicks, Stay for the Wings.