Dear Barista At My Favorite Coffee Shop, I Think I Love You


I’m not sure if you’ve noticed me. Probably not. You’re busy making foam art and casually breaking hearts like it’s just a typical Thursday. But on the off chance you’ve seen a beanie clad brunette sneaking glances your way, hey, I’m Ari.

Pardon me for sounding dramatic, but I think you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen.

My heart literally feels like it’s going to bust right out of my chest whenever I look at you. And yeah, that could also be a side effect from the caffeine, but you get what I’m saying. If you were my latte, you’d be above 160°F because you’re EXTRA hot. Hahahah, coffee jokes, see?! We can laugh about this stuff together!

I’ve tried asking you out, or just if you’re even single, but it always comes out as a mumbled, “Thank you,” as I avoid eye contact. But you do always remember my specific order. You make me feel understood, you know? Like you actually pay attention to me. It’s so lovely.

I find myself thinking about you when I’m trying to go to sleep. Like, what’s your last name? Are you close with your family? Are you allergic to dogs (because sorry, deal breaker)?

I know we don’t really know each other that well and this is a bit presumptuous…but just hear me out, okay? We could be so happy together.

Picture this: you, making coffee in the morning before work. Me, drinking it. Or if you want to switch things up, I’LL make the coffee. I’m not into specific gender roles. We can take turns. I just want you to feel appreciated.

You’re the only thing that makes waking up a little less painful. Stay gold, Barista Boy.

I love you. (But like, whatever, it’s not a big deal).