I Do Believe That Young Man was Flirting with Me.

So, I stepped over to the Parnassus café to get myself a tall mocha. It was that, or a cataplectic nose-dive into my keyboard. And so I get to the counter and order my mocha and the dewy young fellow at the counter asks if I want whipped cream with it. In a moment of devil-may-care insouciance I allowed as I would. He turns to the barista who explains that they're out, and so he turns back to me, this blue-eyed, curly-haired, faintly rumpled young waif, and looks me dead in the eye as I'm trying to figure out my change and says, with a little gleam, "Sorry. I've got to stop teasing customers with the whipped cream." "Mmm. Yeah, it sounds really bad, for one thing." I got another little twinkle from him when he offered to set me up with a punch card.

Hmm. Perhaps I should switch to getting my coffee in the afternoons.