The Boyfriend Designer - Christopher Harlan Page 0,37

can rip through my body faster if I swallow a lot of it at once. We’ll see how that goes. Right now, I’m fueled by a strange mix of curiosity and frustration. I already have a bunch of DM’s, mentions, and tags. Some of these guys even made a meme of me and Conor using the selfie we took. The internet is blowing up.

On the plus side, I have a bunch of new subscription notifications. The YouTube universe is weird in that way. Even people who don’t like me might subscribe just so they can leave hate on every one of my new videos, not realizing they’re actually helping me out. Whatever—I’ll let them be stupid.

As I’m frantically scrolling through my DM’s and probably looking all crazy—again—I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder. “Hey there.”

I look up and see Sabina, the barista who talked me down from the ledge last time I was in here. God, I really freak out a lot in this Starbucks. “Hey. It’s my favorite drug dealing soul sister. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I work in twenty minutes or so. You know, peddling that legal drug. I just got here early for once, so I have a few minutes to spare.”

“Well now you have something to do.” I tap the seat next to me and she sits down. I take another gulp of coffee.

“You know I subscribed to your channel after we talked that day.”

“That’s amazing, thank you.”

“No,” she says. “Thank you. I think I’ve seen all of your videos in the last few weeks. They’re addicting. And they helped me get through a tough time about two weeks ago.”

“Let me guess. Guy problem?”

“More like guy problems—I wish it was a boyfriend issue, but it’s not. The issue is even getting the boyfriend in the first place. Dating around here sucks—I swear all the guys are mentally ill or have serious personality disorders.”

I crack up. “I get that. I think that’s why I like to talk to women about their perfect guy. It takes the edge off of the reality of dating.”

“That’s exactly what it did for me. I went on three dates in the last few weeks. All of them were losers.”

“Oh no!”

“Yup. One guy—Dan—he’s a regular here, but probably not anymore after what happened. I saw him giving me googley eyes and he was always trying to make conversation with me after ordering his drink. And he’d come back like four or five times in a day, and only when I was working. Who the hell needs that much coffee?”

“I do, but we’ll put my drug issues on the back burner. Clearly Dan was thirsty for more than just a latte.”

“Exactly. So I guess he worked up the courage to finally ask me out or whatever, and I said yes because it had been a while since I’d been out.”

“And I’m guessing that it didn’t go so well?”

“That’s an understatement. We go out that Saturday, and I can tell right away that he’s trying a little too hard to impress me by taking me to a fancy place—you know the type, a restaurant with a French name that has menu items you have to Google on your phone to understand what you’re about to eat. And no prices on the menu.”

“I hate those places. It’s like men think us being linguistically confused is a panty dropper.”

“Right? Guys just don’t understand. That and spending a lot of money, which actually became part of the problem later on.”

“Oh.”

“Actually, money wasn’t part of the problem, it was the problem, but I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“Don’t do that,” I tell her. “I’m enjoying this.”

“Dan’s meets me there ‘cause I’m not looking to get kidnapped by getting in some random customer’s car.”

“Good call.”

“So we agree to meet, and I get there first. Then I see Dan walk in after a few minutes and he comes over to the table. The guy looked like he went out and maxed out a credit card on the most expensive suit he could find. It was so over the top. I was surprised the suit didn’t have wings. Even for a fancy place, his outfit was too fancy, and more than his inability to dress for the occasion I could tell he was just trying to impress me. And that didn’t impress me much.”

Oh no she didn’t. “‘Sure he’s got the moves, but does he have the touch?’ Sorry, I had to.”

“I love that song, and it’s so true. But seriously, like stop

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