I am sitting here at Starbucks, drinking the cheapest serving of coffee to pay for my seat and wifi access. The library is off limits to me today. I never go to the library when I'm sure someone there is going to piss me off.
So, here at Starbucks, I am doing some serious people-watching. I hadn't intended to, but then I saw this guy come in who caught my attention and got me started. Just a gorgeous young man, but in that weird way that some people have. He is dressed like he has a job in a bank behind a desk, but he's got purple highlights in his hair, and he's wearing lipstick. His lips are amazing. (If I was a man and had lips like that, I'd wear lipstick too.) And he's wearing black nail polish. Damn, he is cute. Very hetero-acting, which is a turn-on because of the makeup. And he's so confident. This man should be on a magazine cover or red carpet, or in my bed tonight. Except he's about 25 years younger than me. I'd probably end up in the E.R. It might be worth it.
Then there is the dude sitting over in the opposite corner of the room. Very strange-looking. He's either a visibly tortured artist or a budding serial-killer. He just has that look: sorta-crazy-but-sorta-brilliant. He's writing in a ratty little memo book with a broken-off pencil. He's being really intense. He caught me looking at him a second ago and he started biting his bottom lip. Damnnn! That was kind of sexy until I realized that Ted Bundy was pretty hot too.
If I were a fairy godmother, I'd wave my wand and hook up the hot guy with the nail polish with the cute server with the ponytail. (She's cute in a very clean and honest-looking way. She looks like someone who has a great personality without trying to channel any pop culture idols.) I'd hook crazy guy up with myself if I also had a weapon just in case he's dangerous, but, without knowing, I'd like to see him with this one lady who is being very self-consciously fashionable. She's pretty hot-looking, but she's way too aware of herself. I like her Chanel bag but you can tell she wants everyone to notice that it is a Chanel bag. Her coat is probably designer too. It hangs really well and it's one of those items that looks very plain and expensive and probably didn't come from Burlington but from a store with the designer's name on the door. Bitch. (See what I'm doing here? Giving her a hot-looking, sexy guy but only because he might be a felony about to happen.)
Oh shit! Hot guy - lipstick-hot, not crazy-hot - just passed my table and smiled at me. He's got a cleft chin. Cleft chins are my weakness... I sure hope that God made him in multiple (older) models and I get a chance to run into one someday.
Chanel girl has friends joining her. One of them is the local version of Iman. I'd swear this chick was a model if she weren't about ten inches too short. She's got every beautiful feature women want: high cheekbones, wide eyes, perfect teeth and good boobs. She's wearing a sweater, but I can tell that her boobs probably sit up good even without a bra. Bitch. She's a black woman so I am double-triple jealous. (If my baby with his cleft chin even looks her way, I'm going to hire crazy-man to hit on her.)
This might be the first post where you guys get to see just how my head works. Of course, I'm not all-sane - that would be no fun at all. But if you live here in Anchorage and ever hang out at Starbucks, I might get a chance to blog about you. Now, since I'm not buying a six-dollar sandwich and I'm too full of liquid, I'm going to pack up and go elsewhere to people-watch.
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