For some people, it just makes a fancy cup of coffee. For others, that fancy cup of coffee could be the most important thing in the world.

After several days of thought on the matter, Craig was starting to think that there was no good way for a strange man to introduce himself to a young lady while holding a bunch of knives and not look creepy.

He realized his window of opportunity with these things was closing. Sooner or later, Danielle was going to storm up to his aunt Sylvia's door and demand the return of her knife set, only to be told that she'd given them to her painfully shy and awkward nephew. That, he decided, was not going to help him win a first date at all.

Still, just staring at them and trying to come up with a good opening line wasn't exactly getting him anywhere, either. He needed to be cool. He needed to be charming. He needed to be, well, someone other than himself.

If it had been anything else Aunt Sylvia had borrowed, things would be different, he told himself. If it had been a vacuum, he could offer to fix it if it ever broke down, and afterward they could grab a cup of coffee. If the knives were laptop or a media player, he could offer to compare music preferences, perhaps over cup of coffee. If, for some reason, he was returning a Saeco Odea Giro Espresso maker, he could wow her with his knowledge of the adjustable ceramic burrs, easy-to-use interface, large 50-ounce removable reservoir, and high clearance steam wand, knowledge that would so impress Danielle that she would invite him in for a latte or an Americano, which would provide him the perfect opportunity to ask her if she'd like to go out for coffee sometime. Which would be redundant, but maybe that would make her laugh.

Instead, all he'd come up with so far was "Hey, my aunt wanted me to return these knives to you. Boy, they sure look sharp. And giraffe-like. So, I guess you like cutting things, huh?" STUPID.

Craig shook his head. "This is ridiculous," he said to himself. "Why am I making this so difficult? All I have to do is knock on the door, introduce myself, and hand her the knives. That's it. If we make small talk, we make small talk. If she wants to get coffee, we'll get coffee. And if not, I'll just crawl into bed in my lonely apartment and wait for the sweet embrace of Death to claim my unloved soul."

Craig sighed. Maybe he'd come up with something better tomorrow.

Back to top