I’ve been going to this coffee shop for five months and I already found out that one of the baristas rides a bike to work. I hear a ringing, but I’m not sure if it’s wedding bells or the sound of my mind exploding. I mean, wow, she has a bicycle—and I know that now! You don’t tell just anyone that. What if I was some type of weird creep, the type who doesn’t simply get in, stare, get out, and craft a narrative of their future together as caffeinated lovers going on a series of romantic getaways made possible by Groupon? The type who makes his own “I Like Bike” shirt out of a white tee and chain grease? The type who follows a person around on rollerblades to see what they’re up to, then tries to diffuse the situation after they get caught by saying it was an homage to The Stupids? The type who owns The Stupids on HD DVD? The type who’d bring their HD DVD of The Stupids to her apartment even though they know her boyfriend Kevin Grobinski’s PlayStation 3 can only play normal DVDs and Blu-Ray discs? The type who’d find out that the security code to get in was 0918? The type who’d uncover that that’s her childhood dog Roscoe’s birthday? The type who eats biscotti that isn’t covered in chocolate? It’s a good thing for her I’m not. I tip too much to afford doing any of that.