presents, advice, and wisdom

this week i was bombarded with gifts from regulars... from concrete objects to language lessons to fantastic written works to self help tips, i received them all.

let us start with my favorite regular. Ri.... oh. i am sorry. a certain boss of mine has expressed concern regarding my using the real names of our regular patrons. thus i will begin using more descriptors and aliases. for this particular rotund regular, who routinely drinks iced tea, i will use his french name, richard (pronounced "REE-shard"). please allow me to digress. one day this fellow asked me if i knew his name in french. i happened to have taken several years of the language and correctly pronounced reeshard. the joy this gave him truly warmed my heart. thus his alias: reeshard. ANYWAYS. reeshard left me quite the surprise today! upon my arrival to my afternoon shift (a somewhat rare occurence nowadays) i was quite disappointed to learn that i had missed reeshard's daily iced tea drink AND his consequent refill. a bit later i gathered a bus tub CHOCK FULL of dishes (either we were really busy or SOMEONE didnt do their endos...) and happened upon an "empty" glass i recognized as reeshard's. that is to say, i recognized the icey-sugar-lemon sludge filling half a glass to be remnants of the concoction my favorite regular drinks daily. i smiled to myself as i thought of how much i would miss him over the next week, as i do not work again until after the holiday. while i was banging his glass against the side of the trash can, trying to dislodge at least SOME of the slurry in his glass i noticed something strange. something neither ice, nor sugar, nor lemon. using my skills as a scientist and all around genius, i diluted the mixture with water, allowing me to see more clearly the contents of the glass. lo and behold!! reeshard had left me a PENNY in his glass!!! i can only surmise that he wanted to give it to me as a memento reflecting his affection for me, but he lacked the social aptitude to give it to me in person. i am amazed at his ingenuity. (upon second thought, given my knowledge of his poor eyesight, it is possible...POSSIBLE...that he accidentally dropped it into his glass while dousing his tea with copious amounts of sugar. but this seems highly unlikely given our history AND the fact that i have given him THREE HALF DOLLAR GIFTS within the last week. i bet he just wanted to return my generosity). anyways, needless to say, this made it worth going into work today.

next, i was blessed with a language lesson from dear old, poncho wearing glenn. (who has been noticeably absent of his son in recent weeks...i can only hope the poor boy has been taken into protective services). after asking a dear friend of mine where she was going when she left erc, glenn decided to impress me with not only his knowledge of latin but of his biblical knowledge as well. peering at me over his wire rimmed glasses, glenn says in his mellow stoner voice, "you shoulda said 'QUO VADIS.'" he went on to explain that this meant "where are you going" in latin. and that it was the exact phrase jesus said to the apostle peter after the resurrection on the shores of galilee. because you see after jesus died, peter went back to galilee to be a fisherman again. now, i could be wrong, but i was emprisoned in catholic school for 12 years, and i remember no mention of this incident, let alone this phrase. now this website purports that jesus DID go back to visit peter, but that he said "feed my sheep." this seems a much more likely account to me. anyways, i think it is safe to assume that glenn is (ALWAYS) wrong. regardless, i told glenn i would remember that for next time... but i think what i should have said is "QUA EST VESTRI FILLUS???" meaning "WHERE IS YOUR SON???"

finally, i received a somewhat disturbing piece of advice (wisdom? antiquated opinion? hippo flop?) from dear old sweaterman. our conversation started out casual and friendly, as i have decided to begin engaging him in a pleasant and polite manner, since after all, he tips a dollar EVERYTIME HE COMES TO THE REGISTER, and i am not filling the void in papa's wake as the apple of his affections. (jamie is. he has already dubbed her his "favorite barista"). anyways. he asked if my foot was "all healed up." i said "uh, no not quite. i still cannot run or play sports." (i thought can you not see my debilitating limp? the extra pounds i am putting on from months of sedentary living? but, i held my tongue). he replies, "ohh no rock climbing for you..." me, "yeah no rock climbing, no soccer..." him, "i have known a lot of women who have been injured playing soccer. it's a dangerous sport...i'm beginning to think that maybe women don't belong in it..." me, "yeah... hmmm it's...dangerous..." WHY DID I SAY THAT?? WHY DIDN'T I SAY WOW YOU ARE PRETTY SEXIST THERE, EH OSWALD?? WHY DIDN'T I STAND UP FOR MY FEMINIST BELIEFS, UPHOLDING MY STATUS AS A FEMINAZI (as a drunk customer once called me after spilling his warm milk all over himself. bah hahah). also, i don't think his facts were quite accurate. at least not according to this official study. anyways, this experience left a bad taste in my mouth. for more reasons than one.

as far as the "fantastic written works" go...i don't want to have to view the poems and short stories about sexual urges and rejections written by a seemingly disturbed regular ever, EVER again. they are not (hopefully) directed to me, and are just up on the interwebs for everyone to see, and so are not a gift in the strict sense. thus, i brush them from my memory.