tall non-fat chai moccha shot-down

I just e-mailed this website and told them to hire me as a contributor.
I wonder if they'll listen...
I provided them with a link to my blog.
If my mother knew this, she would be mortified.
Of course, my mother doesn't know what a blog is.
But, if someone explained it to her, informed her that I have one, provided her with the website, gave her time to read it, gave her more time to murder me, and then informed her at my wake that I had, in my last days, applied for a job using this as a reference?
She'd be mortified.

There goes my brother. Having sex again.
I have another crush on a coffee barrista.
Does anyone know what number this is?

I once asked out a girl who worked at the Second Cup.
After going there non-chalantly for months.
But one day. One day I got up and I said, "Today's the day."
This was 2005.
I put on my best gangly outfit and went down there.
But she wasn't working.
She was at her other job.
At Kent Building Supplies.
She told me. I didn't follow her there, or anything.
Anyway, I said, "Fuck it. I was going to ask her today..."
So I drove there.
She was on cash.
I collected some random shelving bracket, and I brought it to the counter, and I asked her out.
I must sound ridiculous from their perspective.
"Huh? Oh. No. I don't want to buy this. I was just going to ask you if you wanted to go for coffee with me sometime. I know you work at a coffee shop, so you probably wouldn't want to get coffee there, but we could go somewhere else. You wouldn't have to get coffee, either, you could get some other sort of beveridge if you'd rather do that."
This is the sort of shit I say.
She had a boyfriend.
She volunteered to put the bracket away.