That Boy in The Coffee Shop

Before the turn of the millennium I met a man (who was then a boy) in a coffee shop in the Mall. He told me jokes, sang songs to me from the radio and danced silly dances. We quickly became friends as we worked together in the shop and I looked forward to the days I shared with him, as they were the days that would fly so quickly.

The summer passed into Fall and with the winter came the hectic holiday season where the job consumed us. Our home lives were replaced by our Mall family and we all grew closer in those months. When the holidays ended we all longed for more of each other...

Valentine's Day arrived and, as it was a holiday where our store became crowded with candy shoppers and gift-buyers, it felt as though a bit of the holiday spirit had been recaptured again. We were busy, it was crowded and we, the employees, were all together again. Then he came in, my friend, to work the late shift. I had been in all morning and would be in all night.

I had a special job that day. I was out front freshly dipping strawberries into chocolate for the most luxurious Valentine's Day shoppers. He walked right up to me smiling. I smiled too, I didn't realize he was working that day. He made some small chat about my station at the strawberries and I made some joke about how I was eating more than giving the customers. Then he asked me to be his Valentine. He asked me to go out with him that night after work, not as friends, but as something more.

My heart soared.

Then it crashed.

I was already going out with someone else that night... it would be our second or third date (and he also worked with us).

In that moment, when I had to decline, I suddenly knew what I wanted. I wanted to say yes. I wanted to go out with this boy. It had never occurred to me that he had wanted the same.

We spent the rest of the work day together, like we always did, joking and laughing, except this time any time a broken hearted love song played on the store's radio - he would sing it to me. It was adorable and, as it was typical in his fashion, very funny.

When the work night ended we said goodnight and he told me to have fun.

That was Valentine's Day 1997. It was the only Valentine's Day that I knew him that I wasn't his Valentine. (Although, if I'm being honest, I think he stole my heart that night, too...)

So, while I may not buy into the commercialism of Valentine's Day - the cards, the balloons, the gifts, the flowers, the "special menus" at the crowded restaurants - there is one boy (who is now a man) that I met fifteen years ago in a coffee shop that always reminds me of the magical romance of February 14th.

Thank you, Robert Rivera, for fifteen years of Happy Valentine's Days!