The guy slid down until he was in the seat beside me.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “But for a second, I could’ve sworn that you were Meg White. You know, from the White Stripes?”

“Of course, from the White Stripes,” I said, inching away from him.

“No, really, you look just like her,” he continued. I turned to face him, I eyed his indie rocker sideburns, Belle & Sebastian tshirt, and his lopsided, embarrassed smile. He was actually kind of cute.

“Is that some kind of lame pickup line or something?” I mumbled, feeling a little annoyed. I wasn’t really in the mood for guys after today.

“No,” he said, blushing, “I meant it as a compliment. I think Meg White is a really boss chick.”

“Oh,” I said, “Me too.” We shared a silent moment, smiling down at our shoes.

“Doesn’t this place totally just creep you out?” I said.

“Reminds me of Buffalo ‘66,” he said.

“Exactly!” I said, excitedly, “I actually laughed at myself when I ordered a hot chocolate just because I thought of that movie.”