every time i click the link to get me here, i get the song in my head.
‘he was tall and breezy with his long hair down’ etc.
perhaps this is what puts me in a similar mood for every post.
we had another Starbucks gathering last night at Plank’s bier Garten.
this is my life, take it or leave it.
spending the evening with the same people you’ve spent the day with can sometimes be surprisingly pleasant. there is Olivia, my partner in crime, with her fiery red hair and her push and her black fingernails and her don’t you dare! and her don’t ever! and the classic don’t ever-push combo. there is serve’, with his jibbajabba and his nopecan’tdoit and his here comes ja baby(He and i can get going mae-and-lyndsey-style, except no usually one wants to leave the room for some reason…i just don’t get you people) And there is jon, who knows a bit of Athens (a marching-band drop-out) with his secret novel he’s been writing on break and his endearing depression and lovable self-doubt. And there is matt, with his belief in god and heaven and all things good bogged down by the weight of thinking he could have picked a better way, going from happy to sad, buying you a copy of that DVD you mentioned you loved one day and making you cry for not filling the bean rack the next. And there is jenica, the teacher with her blond hair flipped out seeming she could be emily blair with a mini pot belly if you squint your eyes. And there is Mahoney, the new girl, who was put on earth so i can unashamedly tell my Steve Gutenberg story over and over and over. and there is Jodi, my boss, who wasn’t there. And Alex, the mom who tried, and Hicks and S. Saksaka and Mary and Jose and Caitlin and our long-lost Carrie. They weren’t there, either.
these are the people, the characters, the cast, if you will, and suddenly for a year of my life i know them and love them and they have wives and husbands and girlfriends and dogs and i know and love them too and we’ve been out once or twice or a dozen times or so and we’re going to the park this afternoon with Maybel and out again tonight to Skully’s (yes, Skully’s) to determine once and for all if Zachary Allen Starkey is, in fact, a total douchebag.
but soon, every one of these people will be leaving. come harvest time our friends will file out to Oregon, Prague, Montana, California…and the store will slowly fill with new baristas (isn’t this happening already?) and they will meet Larry who learns their name immediately and flirts with them a little and says “i think i’ll go all D today, thanks” and they will meet Glenn and they will remake his drink three times until it’s right and they will meet Holly, whose name they’ll learn immediately and they will meet Jeff and eventually they will learn his secret and i will be there in the background, watching. and everyone will already know my name and they will be impressed and they will hate it when i have to remind them to get the milk steaming first and that the lemon meringue tort gets three days and so quickly, quickly, i am scrambling to get out of there before this transition is complete, while everything is confused and there are five people on the floor all the time more and more these days and i will get out and i will remember saturdays when no one would show up until 8 or so and we could sit outside before they got here and talk and i will remember fridays with no precloser or lunches and i will remember pam and greg and zeller. and so i may be writing here a lot more (that isn’t good) (just to practice) because it’s been so long and the other day i got the words epidural and epidermis confused and the day before that, Seth convinced me (if only for half a second) that girls don’t have spleens.
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