I mean, he looked exactly like Ryan Gosling. it was uncanny. He even had the hipster glasses and the disarming smile and those eyes (those eyes) shining with purity of heart and sexiness of soul. It was so very difficult to swallow my perfectly cooked meal. It was breakfast, my favourite kind of breakfast, cooked to perfection, and all I could do was choke and blush and wonder if he was watching. He probably thinks I’m silly, inconsequential, an easy tipper. I am though. Money? All I want to do is fall to my knees and declare that his eyes make the world a better place, his smile makes the violins play, and how he can only ever be a lord in a castle and what is he doing, here, in a cafe, serving breakfast? He could be a model, an actor, a God. My god.
It’s been so long since I’ve been in love and it sucks that it was at breakfast in a strange city with a man whom I will never see again. But I will love you forever, Lithuanian breakfast server/Ryan Gosling doppleganger god of beauty. You are perfect.