From yesterday afternoon, 2pm:
I just came to Starbucks to catch up on some writing, as well as escape the sauna-like conditions of a Freon-free townhouse. As soon as I sat down, a friend (well, friend-of-a-friend) walked in. He’s the friend that a couple of us kinda snicker at sometimes because although he’s one of the nicest, most sincere people I’ve ever met, he’s also the typical 20-something Nashville guy. He’s got a band (full of other typical 20-something Nashville guys), the pre-requisite light brown hair dyed another shade (in his case, currently light blond), a college-age girlfriend with ridiculous hair (faux-hawk on top, long on the back and sides) and wears girl jeans. Also, I’m seeing him in Starbucks, which seals the deal.
Anyway, he ordered his drink and started up a conversation with one of the baristas (who he’d obviously met before). The barista let him know that he was leaving the ‘bucks in two weeks because his band was going on tour. They exchanged e-mails, then first names. Ahhhh, Nashville. How predictable (in a good, humorous way) you’ve become.