My favorite coworker is Elaine, I think. I know you're not supposed to have favorites, but Elaine is an exception because she is awesome. I think she is everyone's favorite.

She's a fiery red head, with what I can only describe as a deep California voice. 

"What's open at ten-thirty?" She looks at me, walking out for her lunch.

"La Frontera," Alex says.

Elaine fakes throwing up.

"Subway?" I say.

"That's right, you're a good woman, Rachel. I forgot about that."

"You forgot I was a good woman? Or about Subway?" I ask her, but she's already gone. I walk back to the other side of the pastry case and re-brew coffee.

The phone rings.

"Thanks for calling Starbucks, this is Rachel."

I can hear a deep throaty laugh.

I start laughing. Neither of us can even speak for ten seconds.

"What's up?" I ask.

"The milkman is here," she laughs. I keep laughing too, because the best thing about Elaine is she legitimately thinks every thing she says is really funny. "And it's not his baby!"

I can't stop laughing, even though a customer is standing there, waiting for me to get off the phone. 

I can't think why she would call to tell me that. There is literally no reason, except that she thought it was a hilarious joke.

Everything is funny when you get four hours of sleep. I missed this in ways I couldn't remember.

I feel like I'm teenaging again.

"So my brother says to the guy, 'Oh look, your iPhone screen is cracked.' And the guy stands up and says, 'No I don't do crack anymore, I just like the way it smells.'"

-Elaine