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School Lunch


Dear Ramon,
You’ve been coming into my work for over a year now, once or twice a month. You never look me in the eye when I talk to you but I can feel your stares, hot on the back of my neck, when I turn away. I know you have no interest in what I’m selling, and still you come back, again and again. Listen, Ramon, I know you want to ask me out, that you have a “big crush” on me; it’s pretty obvious (plus, your mom told me.) And, yet, you can never seem to get the guts up to ask me out, or get my phone number, or flirt without stammering. 

Dear Ramon, I’d like to give you a little tip, because I think you should know after all this time: don’t even bother.

I get it. You’re nervous. I’m intimidating: I look people in the eye, I’m conservatively dressed with some artsy flair, I’m friendly and I give really good customer service. But, the thing is, it’s my job. In my real life, when I’m not at work, I’m not generous with the friendly smiles – my clothes are eccentric, weird even – my demeanor has lots of hard edges and unpredictable holes.

I may not be the most beautiful girl, or the smartest, but I am full of meaty, juicy guts. I’ve been knocked on my ass more times than I can count, but because of these guts, I’m still standing, still fighting. Because of these guts, when I want something, or when I believe something, when the future needs wrangling, I pull out all the stops, I hitch up my bootstraps, I push through the barriers, I overcome my shyness and worry and I go for it.

And you know what I’m looking for in guys that I date? Guts, Ramon. I’m not looking for the handsomest, strongest, most charming, smartest, richest guy. I’m looking for a guy with guts. I know if you can’t even muster the guts to ask me out, after an ENTIRE YEAR, that you don’t have what it takes. If you can’t suck it up, reach out, look me in the eye, act like a man, offer yourself humbly but with confidence, than you are not the guy for me. I’m not interested. Fact.

Dear Ramon, just let it go and move on. Take it from me: I eat guys like you for lunch, with pickles and Baked Lay’s on the side.

XOXO, Joce