How to Read the Secret Sexual Codes Coming from That Person Sitting by You at Starbucks

How to Read the Secret Sexual Codes Coming from That Person Sitting by You at Starbucks

-“Is this seat taken?”: You want me to know that you respect my space, and should whatever happens here between us today—what ever crazy conversations about global deficits or learning Arabic we get into—I will know that you always had my interests first.

-Putting on a shawl: It’s cold in here, and you hope this attractive guy next to you will comment on this frigid air conditioning, and possibly open up a conversation between us.

-Asking what the password for the Wi-Fi is: “Will you have sex with me?”

-Reading a book, setting the book down, and looking up for a moment, lost in thought: Please please please notice how intellectually ruminating I am—now is when you should say something bookish, but non-threatening like, “Sometimes you just gotta put the book down, huh?” No wait, that’s stupid. But you get the idea.

-Typing on my computer very quickly and then very slowly, alternating taps of the fingers: You are word-processing something for work; you do not want to have sex with me.

-Shifting your weight by alternating which foot is crossed: Just kidding, you are a sadistic freak in bed, subliminally screaming “Come get me!”

-Me laughing loudly to myself as the baristas sing in bad harmony to Chicago’s “Feeling Stronger Every Day”: I’m a desperate, lonely bastard, but please take notice that I still find joy in the small things, that I’m worth a chance, that you should ask me to go for a walk in Loring Park with you.

-You asking “Do you want to keep an eye on my stuff for a moment?”: I trust you so much, even though we’ve done nothing but share laughter at bad barista harmonies, that I am going to leave in your caretaking my precious Acer laptop and brown messenger bag. We can build a lifetime on this connection, I know it.

-Going to the restroom: I have imbibed too much coffee and am about to fill the Great Lakes with urine.

-Not responding to my off-the-wall-but-maybe-just-maybe query about “Do you like jazz music and wine?”: You really are taken aback by my manliness and forceful intellect. You will come around.

-Getting up, packing your stuff, and leaving: what you’re really saying is, “Chase me, leave behind your life, I’m taking the next bus on Nicollet, put your arms around me and never let go, then throw me in your trunk, and drive 180 miles into rural northern Minnesota before you open me up and live with me in your cabin for the next 25 years. It’ll be magical.”

-Dunstan McGill

Photo courtesy j.o.h.n. Walker