A Good Man

Most mornings, I buy my coffee from the cafeteria downstairs in my building. A waste of money? Yes. A byproduct of laziness? Mhm. But there is always something about cafe-brewed coffee that is different from homemade coffee. Not that I can't make good coffee..I make some fine coffee. Learned that from my dad. But I digress.
Each morning, as soon as I approach to cafeteriia counter, the barista guy has my coffee waiting for me. He sees me entering the building, and immediately knows what I want (since I get the same thing every day), and has it waiting for me, with a smile on his face. Now THAT is the kind of man I want. One who knows how I like my coffee, has it ready for me, and wishes me a good day. True, it's his job. I like to think that's beside the point. I like to think I'm special. "You are special, Hilary", Dan would say.