The Napkin Incident

So apparently I have a type and that type is “guys who draw on napkins at coffee shops.”

The Napkin Incident

We went to Cup A Joe yesterday (actual first date, not just studying together and pretending it’s not a date). He ordered some ridiculous drink with three different syrups because he thought it would make him seem sophisticated. I got black coffee because I’m not trying to impress anyone. Lies.

Then halfway through our conversation about… I don’t even remember what, probably something pretentious about music… he just starts sketching. On his napkin. Without asking. And it’s actually GOOD. Like, really good. It looks like me but better, if that makes sense? Like me if I had my life together and wasn’t surviving on dining hall pizza.

I told him it was “fine” and “I guess you’re decent at art or whatever.” Then I folded it up and put it in my purse when I thought he wasn’t looking. He was totally looking. We talked for four hours and I missed my study group and I don’t even care. This is not me falling for a guy who draws. This is me appreciating art. There’s a difference. Shut up.

The napkin is currently tucked into my nursing textbook as a bookmark. You know, for practical reasons. Not because I’m completely gone for this boy or anything.