So, I paint my nails pretty regularly these days. I also work as a barista/cashier pretty regularly these days. A few weeks back, I had a customer come in, a fairly typical, sheltered, suburban soccer mom, and she ordered a latte from me. She saw my brightly colored nails and said, “Wow, you’re so brave! My son asked me about painting his nails, and if it’s okay for boys to do that. Now I’ll tell him there’s a cool guy who does it too!” It was a nice moment, very cute.
Then, last week, she came in again, and said, “Hey, I’m so glad you’re here! I want you to meet someone!” She then brings her son forward, and says, “Okay sweetie, show him what you did!” And he throws his hands up, showing off his bright, sparkling blue nails. He shows them off, and I show mine off to him. He smiles. We fist bump.
Guys, I’ve only wanted to cry once at work before, and that was when someone ordered a large dry soy cappuccino on ice.
This time, though. This was a good cry.
Thank you for being awesome.
Thank you for having amazing teachers like Paul Eliot, Dave Savage, Michelle Savage, and Melissa Knittel.
Thank you for kicking my butt with assignments but always being there when I needed the help.
Thank you for teaching me to take care of myself.
Thank you for all the frustrating moments.
Thank you for all the weird ass shit we do each year.
Thank you for being such a life changing experience.
Thank you for everything.
I’ve got such a bad leg cramp in my right leg that I feel like that guy from Spongebob who’s always screaming “my leg” somewhere far off in the distance in every episode