"Excuse me, ma'am, are you Annabeth Chase?" I forcefully laughed, "Ah, no. I get that a lot though." The customer frowned, pointing to my name tag. "But your name is Annabeth Chase."
"Yeah, well, a lot of people have the same names."
"But you look like her too."
"There are a lot of blondes in this world, Sir, are you saying we all look alike? So am I just another dumb blonde to you because I work in a coffee shop?"
"No, but… You do look alike. And you two are around the same age."
"So?"
"So… are you the Annabeth Chase?"
"Why are you asking?"
"Because you're famous."
"I'm not famous, Annabeth Chase is."
"You are Annabeth Chase."
"I'm not 'the Annabeth Chase' though."
"You could be."
"But I'm not."
"You know her most distinguishable quality is the color of her eyes. You two have the same eyes"
"What are you, the best friend of the Annabeth Chase? Why don't you go bother her then?"
"It's a common known fact."
"Why do you know so much on a person anyway?"
"I only mentioned one thing about her."
"How old is she?"
"Twenty-three."
"When's her birthday?"
"July 12."
"Creep. What's her favorite color."
"It was gray, but it changed to sea-green for some unknown reason."
"Double creep. You like her stalker or what?"
"Just a big fan." The guy smiled widely. His voice sounded nasally and he seemed out of breath, though he had been sitting at the table for the longest time doing absolutely nothing but staring at her.
"Of Annabeth Chase. Not me. So please, leave. You haven't ordered anything aside from a free glass of water."
"Fine, I'll take the blueberry donut, blue raspberry slushy, blueberry cake with blue sprinkles, and everything else blue."
"Sure thing." I walked away and told the chef that 'this idi0t over there wants everything on the menu that's blue' and then sat back in my seat near to the bar counter.
The guy got out of his seat and came over. "There are over seven billion people in the world, okay? Get it through that thick skull of yours that I. Am not. The. Annabeth. Freaking. Chase!" He smiled an easy smile, his hat still obscuring his face from my view and the unruly black hair beneath wasn't helping. And was he wearing sunglasses? Indoors? The hat covered the rest of his face in its shade, and all I could see was his jaw and chin. Dam, that's one fine jawline.
He held his hands up, "I'm not looking for any trouble, Chase, I just wanted to know where the restrooms were." I threw my arm up and pointed toward the back of the room. "Thanks," he walked away, whistling a tune before he started coughing. I shook my head, "New Yorkers these days…"