Kristina Springer: The Espressologist

I am poised at my desk with my fingers on my keyboard– ready to go. I can hear Hope talking to the camera at the other end of the store: "The Espressologist is in, at least at this local Chicago Wired Joe's." I'm going to have to block her out if I'm going to do this.

A timid-looking guy in his early twenties places his order with Em and then steps up to my desk. He has dark hair and light brown skin. He's wearing a long-sleeve plaid shirt tucked into khakis.

"How are you doing tonight?" I ask, smiling. He nods at me and hands me a piece of paper with all of his details on it. Wow, he's prepared.

I type his info into my spreadsheet: Naushad Raheem, male, twenty-one, gamer.

"Whoops," I say, "I don't see the most important item.

What's your favorite drink?"

Naushad smiles at me and shrugs. "I like small zebra mochas."

Well, dang. I didn't see that one coming. A zebra mocha is half regular mocha, half white chocolate mocha. I was about to peg him at something tamer, like a COD (coffee of the day). I type in zebra mocha and flip open my notebook to refresh my memory of this drink.

Small or Medium Zebra Mocha

Smart and spicy, this person likes to try unusual things and has an adventurous streak. Creative and witty and sure to be fun. Fair looks–not a rock star, but not a DMV Clerk.

Her: Possibly a writer or artist and most likely has a good heart. Him: Most likely into computers, mainly communicates with the opposite sex online. Soft-spoken.

I can see this now, I think. Good thing I checked or I could have totally screwed up this guy's love life.

"Naushad," I say, "I've got all of your information. If I find your match, I'll have her contact you." He nods and moves to the counter to wait for his drink.

I see Em hand the next guy in line his receipt and he turns to look at me. Hmm, he's pretty cute. Tall, at least six-one, a tiny bit overweight but broad-shouldered, with short dark buzz-cut hair. "Name?" I ask.

"My name is Rick," he says. "My favorite drink is a medium americano and I'm here in search of my angel."

Aw, he's kind of sweet. I expect I'll be able to match him tonight. I flip through a few pages of my notebook to find the entry.

Medium Americans

Clueless but a patriot. He walked into Wired Joe's unprepared for what he came face-to face with. A hundred different combinations swirled before his eyes: mocha, latte, cappuccino, espresso. The only word he even slightly recognized was American, so he ordered an americano.

Wimp. And a medium at that! He was a middle child, second string on the b.s. football team–the Peter Brady of the coffee world.

Yikes! I must have been in a bit of a mood the day I wrote that. I'm not saying it is wrong, but I have to add an addendum. It's my book, so I can alter the description when I need to. I quickly scribble:

Addendum: Also may just prefer simplicity in life, straightforward guy's guy looking for love. Average across the board but a little romantic spark.

"So, Rick, tell me something interesting about yourself."

"I can speak five languages," he says.

"Impressive!"

"Yeah, I was a translator in the army for ten years."

"Cool. Stick around for a bit, Rick; I may be able to match you tonight."

"Great," he says with a satisfied expression, and heads to the counter to get his coffee.

I sneak a peek at the Gabby Girlz. They are all watching me and look thoroughly entertained. I continue to talk to customers for another half an hour or so and then Derek steps up to the desk.

"Jane, time for the interview," he says.

"Really?" I ask. He nods. I glance over at the Gabby Girlz, who are getting their makeup and hair checked. I can do this.

The Gabby Girlz producer instructs me to hop up on my desk for the interview. I carefully cross my right leg over my left, trying for the cutest angle possible and the best opportunity at getting my boots in the shot. These babies were born to be on TV The crew adjusts the lights and runs a last sound check. Will winks at me from his place in line. He is a few spots from the front and only moments away from finding the love of his life, aka me.

"All right, let's do this," Hope says, sitting next to me and smoothing down her skirt one last time. She faces the camera and puts on a hugely cheesy grin.

A director calls, "Ready for you in five, four, three, two ..." He points to Hope.

"I now have the opportunity for a one-on-one with the famous local Espressologist, Jane Turner," Hope says to the camera, and I smile. "So, Jane, tell me how you got started with all this." She whooshes her hand in a circle near her head.

"Well, it all started with a notebook."

"Really?" she asks needlessly.

"Yeah. You see, I've been observing people for a long time and I just kept a lot of notes on drinks and the type of people who ordered them." Hope, Mackenzie, and Olivia are all nodding their heads at me enthusiastically. It's making me feel kind of weird but I continue on anyway.

"One day it occurred to me that one of our regulars, a medium iced vanilla latte, would be perfect with a customer who had come in for the first time, a medium dry cappuccino. I checked my notebook to review the personalities I've recorded for these drinks and I was right–

they were a perfect match."

"You're kidding.'" Mackenzie says.

"Um, no," I say. Duh. Would she be here interviewing me now if I was kidding?

"It obviously works," Olivia says, nodding at the line of people and saving Mackenzie from her stupid comment.

"Yeah, it does. The first couple I matched, Gavin and Simone, are actually here tonight."

"Fantastic! Where are you guys?" Mackenzie asks.

Gavin raises a hand. Mackenzie heads over to talk to him and the cameras follow. Whew. I have a breather. I scoot around on the desk and grab my ice water. I take a quick drink and pat my forehead with a napkin. Man, it is hot with all these lights! A moment later Mackenzie is back by Hope's side and I quickly shove the water glass and napkin behind my back.

"It is so amazing that the matches work," Hope says.

"You've really got something here."

I nod.

"So, after you matched a few of your friends, you decided to start matching the rest of the community?"

"Yeah, well, Derek–Derek Peters, he's the manager of our coffee shop–and I decided it would be a fun event for the month of December." One of the cameras zooms over to shoot Derek. "A finding-love-for-the-holidays kind of thing," I add.

"And your record is remarkable!" Olivia says with an encouraging smile. "How many people have you matched now?"

"Somewhere around fifty couples."

"That is so cool," Mackenzie says, and I find this a bit jarring. It is strange to hear someone as old as her saying, "That is so cool."

"It totally is," Hope agrees. "And next we are going to watch Jane make one of her famous on-the-spot matches and then follow them out on their first date."

"We are?" I practically scream at Hope. What the heck is this? I swerve on the desk to face Derek and look at him, my jaw dropped.

"Yes, we are," she tells the camera. "Right after this break."

The director yells, "We're clear!"

I look over at Em, who has been leaning on the pick-up counter watching the interview, and give her my "I'm screwed" face. She gives me back her "yup, you're screwed" face.

"What the heck, Derek?" I scream at him once we are safe behind his closed office door. As soon as the little red light on the camera went off I jumped down from the desk, grabbed Derek by the arm, and yanked him back to his office.

"What?" he says, like he doesn't know.

"How the heck am I supposed to just do an on-the-spot match now?"

"You've done plenty of them. I don't see what the big deal is.