To The Blue Eyed Man

Wow. 

Hello.

Thank you for coming in today.

Thank you for allowing my bank account to have some tip money in it, and thank you for ordering a simple drink with only two shots of espresso instead of four.

Thank you for smiling.

Your smile was like a burst of energy within the depressing moments of the eight AM swarm.

And your kind words were uplifting.

Relieving.

A reminder that my job can be good and bad; that there are good coffee lovers and bad ones.

Thank you for having a good conversation with me.

Most people who walk in say their order in a grumpy turned over smile, ask for their change, and leave for the rest of their monotonous days.

But you stayed.

You chose to have a conversation, and not the creepy flirting ones that sometimes greet me.

You chose to ask me what I like. How I am.

We talked about college. About how I want to be a psychology major, and you brought up philosophy.

We both smiled, welcoming the new information.

And then you continued on with the rest of your day, following the path of customers out the door.

With your retreat, though, your warm smile stayed. I was left upbeat, thinking about the idea of dreams and what they mean.

There are good coffee lovers, and bad ones.

Thanks for being one of the good.

Sincerely,

Your neighborhood barista.