I’m a disgrace to all American women.

Though I won’t be able to post this until later due to lack of wifi, I thought this was worth writing about: I’m currently sitting in a Starbucks on my lunch break, and a cute British guy comes up and asks if he can sit at the table with me. I say yea of course, and so he sits down and pulls out a cooking magazine. I’m sitting with a British chef. God is screaming in my ear, beating me over the head as my very own Mr. Opportunity not only knocks, but comes in and sits politely across from me. As I’m typing this. Oh, did I mention I have an inability to talk to strangers? Oh my God Becca, do something! Anything! Holy shit I’m pathetic and I haven’t touched my Chai in 5 minutes. And were both sniffling from the cold. BRB, time to shoot myself.

P.S. He bites his nails, too. Dying. Ask where a post office is? Augh no!

… 5 minutes pass. I’m nibbling at my muffin like a nervous mouse. Cursing every part of my stupid immature brain and thinking about how if I had wifi, maybe someone would read this, walk over here, and slap me for being so lame.

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