No matter how it ends, no matter how it starts

There's a deli near campus where the food is good, and there are complimentary mini muffins to go along with your meal, and complimentary ice cream for dessert. Free food is always a good thing for poor graduate students, so my friends and I eat there frequently. We have a system where the first person through the line is responsible for picking a table and getting a small plate full of mini muffins. Of course, since we are regulars, most of the employees recognize us, and there are a few that usually engage us in idle chit-chat when we're placing an order or paying at the register.

One lady in particular likes to talk to me. My friend swears that she's flirting with me, but I don't like to hear that. It's not that she's ugly, it's just that, well, ok, she's ugly. When my friend jokes about she and I getting it on, I usually try to deny that she flirts with me. However, he says that she never acts like she even recognizes him, let alone talks to him, even though the two of us are together pretty much every time we go there.

Yesterday I got the impression that he might be right.

Her: Hey you, I haven't seen you in a LONG time!
Me: We've been coming in, but haven't seen you around at all.
Her: I've been working different shifts lately.
Me: I guess that would explain it then, wouldn't it?

(Now seems like a pertinent time to point out that I was wearing a They Might Be Giants t-shirt)

Her (looking at my shirt): So, what's your favorite song of theirs?
Me (thinking funny you should ask that since I just blogged about it the other day, but not saying that): I'm going to have to go with Ana Ng.
Her: Mine is Particle Man. I just love the . . .

(She goes on to mumble something but I wasn't paying attention because all I could think about was my friend standing behind me in line laughing his head off)

Her: Well, can I get anything else for you, Troublemaker?
Me: Just the potato.

I went and sat down in a booth while my friend paid. He sat down and said, "Do I need to go get some muffins, or did you already take care of that, Troublemaker."

Me: All I know is that if she keeps that shit up, we're going to have to start eating elsewhere.

He has a mistress she's Puerto Rican and I heard she has a wooden leg

In addition to the comments on the previous two posts, I've received emails and text messages from some of you. Two people converged on the theme from the Brady Bunch, as I received that in a text message and in one of the comments here.

I thought I'd post the others for the rest of you to see as well.

Text Messages

• She's a hotty . . . when's the wedding date?
• Lady in red is dancing with me cheek to cheek
• I never will forget the way you looked tonight

Email

"Oh my gosh. I HAVE LOVE HANDLES. I WOULD NEVER, EVER WEAR A BIKINI WITH A JACKET WITH MY LOVE HANDLES FALLING OUT...
I thought that you were just being mean.
You need to move, far, far away...
She has your address."

I would just like to say thank you for your all your love and support during this difficult time in my life. I think I may have PTSD.