Pretty much all of my coworkers at Starbucks have hilarious “I wrote my number on someone’s cup” stories. From friendships, to horrifyingly awkward blind dates, the outcome of this action is usually completely unpredictable.
Maybe one day I’ll work up the courage to give my number to a random stranger and incite a crazy story like the ones I hear from the other baristas. But because I have no desire yet to be murdered or stalked by a psychopath stranger, I already knew Steven (see name on cup above).
And of course – to be extra careful – I obviously gave him a fake number.