Fiction: Legal Theft Project -- The No Voice Love Story

Laryngitis was not a pretty word; it did not belong in a romance novel. It certainly did not belong in a true love story—nor did it belong in a sweet “how they met” story.  But every time someone asked how Mike and Danielle met, Mike burst out with “Laryngitis!” before anyone else could say anything, always earning him a glare from his lovely significant other.

It’s not that it wasn’t true.  Because it was. Danielle had one of those stereotypical jobs working as a personal assistant for the legend of her selected field, who was a pain in the ass to work for, wanted things a specific way which often left Danielle in increasingly complicated situations trying to attempt the impossible.  Danielle could only hope that in the end she would learn some great lesson about self-respect and how talented she was—like the movies.  Or else, she was going through a very stressful year and a half for no real reason.

Because of that, Danielle couldn’t afford to be sick.  So, when called with a long list of Starbucks drinks to bring to the office at 5:30 in the morning, and not given time to even respond that she was on the way before the line went dead, Danielle ignored her sore throat, and got out of bed. She’d felt sick for days, but it wasn’t worth mentioning, because she would never get time off, and she needed the money.

It wasn’t until she was first in line with four very annoyed people who didn’t have coffee behind her that she realized she had absolutely no voice.  For the first time in a very long time—She had no idea what to do.  She started at the annoyed barista behind the register baffled for a moment, and then tried to mouth the drinks to her.

“Look, lady, speak up or move on. It’s too early for this and people need their coffee.” Danielle tried again, but the barista just shook her head. “I can’t read lips.”

“I can.” The man behind her stepped forward. “Don’t over exaggerate; just mouth the words exactly as you would say them normally.”   A minute and a half later, Mike turned to the Barista. “Two Grande Chais, one with soy milk, one with one percent.  A Venti Earl Grey Tea Latte, two pumps vanilla, one third water, two thirds milk, and a Quad Venti Salted Caramel Mocha, yes she’s aware it’s out of season and you don’t have the salt topping but everything else will be fine.”  He turned back to me, and laughed, “It’s a miracle that you have all that memorized.”

In a moment of desperate relief, Danielle kissed him, probably with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.  She paid for the drinks, and slipped down to the pickup section.

Four days later, Danielle was back at the Starbucks, with a similar, but not identical list of drinks because her boss wanted to keep her on her toes.   A only slightly annoyed and very pink cheeked Mike met her at the front register.  He handed her a note, and a pen. “I’ve lost my voice as thanks for helping you. I’m pretty that earns me at least your number. I promise I call once using a phone is logical again.”

Danielle thought that was fair enough, and wrote down the number. And as they say, the rest is history. 


The first line of this story was legally stolen from my dear friend Gwen. See what she did with the line I gave her today, and see what she originally wrote for this starting line tomorrow over at http://apprenticenevermaster.wordpress.com/.   <3