Snow misery is setting in. I just escaped it this evening, but it has dumped. And for the first time, the eminently flexible shop job is not so flexible. There will be 4 of us staring at one another tomorrow providing I can get myself in a vehicle and arrive there at 10a.m., to wait until such time as it no longer is tenable to wait and then drive home. This is fine. I can’t bear to sit about worrying on it when there are links to click and much preferable and quite insane little mental trails to skip down.
It was a very quiet day – they seem to be more often than not on days when I am at the shop. It’s just easy, simple work. Using the massive ceramic hand to tie ribbon rosettes and wrap packages, sitting on the chair as though it were some sort of chaise longue in some sort of French salon and watching customers through narrowed eyes, amusing myself with their stories and gauging how much longer it would be before the sun went down. I forgot my phone and that only added to the perception of silence today. We weren’t overloaded with customers, just a steady flow of people looking for cards and scarves and those “last-minute” gifts as they say. There just isn’t a story to share, however, there was a nice moment.
I popped out for lunch to the chic-ish restaurant a door down from ours, the tavern where they’re open for lunch, but nobody’s figured that out yet but me and five or six far chic-er people than I. I was hungry, distracted without my phone for the conventional form of distraction, and with no interest in losing my parking spot, so even though the food is somewhat more expensive than is necessary in these trying financial times of mine, I went there.
And there, with my notebook, I sat and ordered the hot dog of the day from the server there who looks, I have to say, like a much butcher, way less forced Lance Bass. Cute, in a way, that probably clashes significantly with the image I just put in your head. I don’t know why. It sounded good at the time, rather than another french dip. But firstly, as soon as I sat down, he smiled warmly, like he was happy to see me and said, wait, I have a present for you!
Now, believe me when I tell you that I completely understand that there’s a basket or something in back that has these packages prepared en masse for every customer (even if as I furtively glanced around, I didn’t see anyone else with one) and it was nothing to do with me at all. But, it was oddly warm with the light pouring in as it does through the amber glass and being set next to a Christmas tree, a little package of trail mix, felt completely charming and…dare I say it, special.
Then, he was quite kind and nice to me, after I asked for his pen as I walk around this world with everything in my Mary Poppins bag save a writing implement. And then, as never, ever, happens and only, I’m sure, happened out of good ol’ customer service, I caught him looking at me as I left.
So. That was the day. Dinner. Computing, and writing this to you before the clock strikes twelve.