I’ll call her Isabel. She’s a barista at my regular Starbucks. And, in fact, she’s the only reason I have a regular Starbucks: I’ve got a thing for her. There’s no lurid backstory or tragic narrative: we are acquainted, but I don’t know her, and she doesn’t know me. We’ve been introduced a few times by a good friend of mine, Jacob, who happens to be her manager. Infatuation, plain and simple.
Lately Isabel has been going through a particularly difficult time, in the midst of a rather nasty divorce, with custody battles, the whole bit. A brief, unsteady marriage after a long, tortured relationship. There are problems at work, now, too, Jacob tells me. Trouble afoot at the local 'bucks. She had a car accident last week. Things just seem to keep getting worse, and it’s all taking quite a toll on Isabel.
Yet, somehow, we are not deterred. Assuming for the moment that we could muster the courage and invent the context to ask her out, the problem is that this could put Jacob in a very difficult position, or (perish the thought) Isabel in a very uncomfortable position…when of course it is only comfort we would wish to provide. At least in the short term, it’s problematic.
Yet our heart goes out to her. We…that is, I (sorry, been watching Elizabeth I) thought, I’ll send her flowers. Not roses. Anonymously. Or maybe with a note and a bit of verse (I know, I know…sickening, isn’t it? I should have put “TMI” in the thread title). Just some small counterpoint to the absolutely godawful time she’s been having.
The theory here being: flowers from secret admirer = pleasantly mysterious; flowers from tall skinny latte man who’s friends with your boss and whom you barely know = creepy. But maybe they’re both creepy…it’s hard to know, I’ve never gotten flowers (or sent them, apparently). Or maybe it’s sweet but just cowardly? Or even dishonest? Immature? Should I just damn the torpedoes and ask her out? Or mind my own business, since I really only know what I know secondhand, and she’s got enough trouble at the moment. But, I mean, it’s just flowers, innit? Overthinking the simple things = priceless 

Drink names have been changed to protect the innocent (former Barista, here, too).