If we were on a coffee date this morning we would sit outside in the cool promise of a Summer early morning. We would drink iced coffee from mason jars and split three baked goods, still warm, because we couldn’t make up our minds so early in the day. I would, perhaps, slide off my sandals and tuck my feet up under my thighs in the cross-leg position I prefer, because at nearly 30, the idea of sitting lady-like for too long still evades me. We might unapologetically admit the rapidity with which we completed the latest season of Orange Is the New Black. Surely agreeing that Piper is the literal worst. Maybe I mention seeing a Bluegrass band at the beginning of the week and how it’s a weekly event and free. Maybe you say we should catch the next one. We both agree we need to make Pimm’s Cups and bulletin boards made from thrifted picture frames and wine corks, but not necessarily in that order. I would pull the book I’m reading out of my backpack and you’d read the jacket cover, nodding. Perhaps we discuss an article we’ve pored over, perhaps we discuss people’s ridiculous Facebook posting habits. As I check the time on my trusty iPhone, I’d probably get distracted and ask you to reveal your most used emojis and then share mine. A last, random anecdote to smile about each time I look at my phone for the rest of the day.
Later that evening I’d text you, “Thanks for the coffee date! You are the literal OPPOSITE of Piper Chapman. *coffee cup* *kimono* *crying while smiling face* *knife* *prayer hands* *poop*”