“I’ve been immortalized on the Wall of Fame, Brandi!”
There’s this guy that comes into my coffee shop from time to time and draws pictures of the girls at the counter. He’s been doing this a long time–portraits line the wall in the back room and date back to before I worked there. He comes in, asks you to try and hold still (which you can’t, because you’re, you know, working), draws an overly or underly flattering picture (Diana’s has weird, krinkly hair, while Ellie was depicted nude in a vat of coffee beans), then presents it to you and asks what you’re able to tip that day.
Or so I’d heard. Because he always comes in the afternoons, and I leave by 12. I’d never even seen the guy.
Not gonna lie, friends–I really wanted to be on that wall.
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