Apparently, his snub, though polite, of Miss Cleavage was drawing quite a bit of attention.  It seemed his migration away from the temptress surprised the majority of the café’s clientele, including the sultry barista.  A few patrons looked at Boris as if he sprouted three heads, while others displayed grins, both regular and wide-eyed.  The majority of the former consisted of mostly males, while the latter camp was comprised of strictly females.  No surprise then, that her flirtatious behavior divided the customers.<br/><br/>Although Boris had previously been to<i>Blues Café </i>a few times, he definitely failed to recall all the attractive baristas.  Hot Stuff for sure, he would have remembered.  Emily and the woman next to her?  For sure, though perhaps it was their day off when he happened to stop by.  In any event, he now suspected why so many men were faithful customers, and it had nothing to do with the coffee.  Would he suddenly morph into one of those “faithful customers?”  Perhaps, but only for Emily’s sake, not to flirt with Twin Peaks.  Beyond her good looks, he could tell there was substance to Emily.  Even with just one brief attempt at seduction, he wasn’t so sure about Bouncy Barista.  It seemed to him that she was like that with most, if not all, of the male patrons.<br/><br/>Her coughing fit now a thing of the not-too-distant past, Emily recovered quite nicely.  Boris slowed his approach in order to give her that much more time to regain her composure.  The striking woman near her seemed to be prodding her on to something, and Emily was clearly taking action of sorts.  As a bar stool directly across of the pair was now occupied by Boris, Emily took note of the partially eaten oatmeal raisin cookie.<br/><br/>Before he could answer her inquiry, however, she introduced the woman as her best friend, named Angela.  Returning her warm greeting, Boris firmly shook her hand and said, “Nice to meet you, too, Angela.  Quite the place you two have here.”  Pleasantries briefly out of the way, he replied to Emily’s initial question.  “Yep, it sure is,” he stated, while picking up the cookie.  “And it’s very delicious.”  Winking and smiling at Angela, he continued, “Your friend is an awesome baker, but I’ll bet you already knew that.”<br/><br/>In the midst of lauding her scrumptious cookie, Boris noticed three women who sat near his original table reposition themselves at a table closer to him and the pair of friendly baristas.  To his right and two stools away, a pair of women and a man also decided to relocate.  Not knowing the reasoning behind all the musical chairs, he was on the verge of offering Angela and Emily the cookies that remained wrapped in his pocket.<br/><br/>Shortly thereafter, the reasoning behind all the musical chairs made herself known.  Miss Ample Assets had sidled up to his left, where Boris felt a curvy hip rest near his own hip.  She then expertly and tantalizingly rubbed his back.  It seemed to him like the entire café was hushed, where if a pin was dropped, its sound would be the equivalent of a nuclear blast.  Mystery Minx then asked, “Emily, why not introduce me to your friend here?  I didn’t catch his name.”<br/><br/>Boris now knew why those six people had changed seating arrangements: The nosey little scamps wanted front row seats to the developing soap opera.  He stifled a grin at the thought, while also thinking with delight, a little harmless drama with your coffee?  What’s not to like?  He just wished he wasn’t one of the individuals caught in the spotlight’s glare.