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From one of our best friends (shhh, you. We have friends). We'll let his email speak for itself:

So I'm walking into Starbucks near the office about 20 minutes ago, mainly because I'm exhausted and needed to throw some crap out of the car.

Sitting outside the coffee house, curled up in a chair like a little kid, is some girl in huge, Jackie Onassis shades. She looks like Nicole Richie. I don't pay her much attention.

Rather, I'm looking at a girl in a red top who's walking into Starbucks ahead of me. She leaves my field of vision and I idly check out Jackie Onassis, who now has her head slightly turned towards me. She looks in my direction for a moment, then returns to her book.

I might be mistaken, but she looks familiar.

I'm halfway into Starbucks when I realize who she is. Periodically, I run into this chick at the bar near my house; about my height, square jaw, long hair, very cute. I'd be lying if I said I didn't dig her a little. I didn't recognize her because of the dopey shades.

We idly flirted once, last month perhaps, but she was with some angry girlfriend and left before we could talk. I've been meaning to run game on her ever since, but the opportunity has never come up.

But now, now she's sitting alone outside of a Starbucks, and she's reading a book. I buy my coffee, duck into the bathroom, check my hair, fix my shirt, adjust my belt, make sure I'm presentable. There's no time for anything else, I'll just have to wing it. Hopefully she'll glance up when I leave, and I'll have a chance to run my mouth.

I grab my coffee and head out, looking in her direction as I do so. Except she's not looking anywhere near me. She's still reading
the book.

It'd be so very awkward to walk over to her -- "excuse me, do I know you?" etc. etc. -- and so I pause for a moment, balancing my coffee, standing there, waiting for her to glance up. Stalling. She doesn't. The whole thing gets way too uncomfortable and so I retreat to my car. Maybe next time, I think, although that probably won't ever happen.

In the car, I'm furious at myself -- I should have just said, "hey, don't I know you" and simply ran the game from there. It would have been easy, and yet I didn't do it. I curse and I fight and I argue with myself all the way to the office, and by the time I leave the parking lot, I'm livid.

But then I glance down and I notice it.

My zipper is wide open. Apparently, when I left the Starbucks bathroom, I forgot to zip up my damn fly.

Whew, I think. So maybe it wasn't so bad, after all.