A Bittersweet Moment

Today was my last day at Philomath Shell. Ever.

It came out of no where. My last day wasn't suppose to be until next week, but Dalal and I had been discussing how I was going to get my last paycheck because I'll be in Cincinnati. She said that if I don't work next week, I can get the whole thing before February 7th. I think I went into shock. I planned to prepare for my last day and I feel unreasonably connected to that place. So, when she told me that I would be done today, I didn't really know what to do with myself. Not only was it the slowest, most boring day in history, but I felt like all my regulars needed to come in all at the same time, so that I could tell them how much I enjoy seeing them.

The guy who orders two 12" Clubs on Zesty Parmesan:
He is probably in his 60's and would come in maybe once a week and order two sandwiches. He really didn't like me at first because I have such a disorganized personality. He has a British accent and I swear he said "please" after every word that came out of his mouth. He was extremely polite, but I could tell I irritated him a little. I have this problem where I load sandwiches with lettuce. It just seems like the right thing to do, but who in their right mind wants to eat a mouthful of tasteless lettuce when their trying to enjoy their sandwich? So, of course, he asks for light lettuce and I give him my idea of what "light lettuce" is. I looked at his face and could see his patience faltering as I turned his sandwich into a salad. I smiled, trying to recover, and asked what kind of sauce he wanted. "Mayonnaise and Honey Mustard, please". As our "Blimpie sandwich making" relationship continued, I would try to make everything perfectly because he is such an orderly man. He started to come around when I could remember what kind of bread he prefers. Soon, we were discussing random things (like how many times he's lost his keys in his whole life--which is twice, and how often I lose mine--which is at least once a day) and I could usually coax a few smiles out of him. My favorite moment was a few weeks ago when he asked me for lettuce. He leaned close to the glass with worried but firm look on his face and said, "and very, very light lettuce, please". I, of course, blush and giggle nervously, "Gosh, I can never get the lettuce right! I try every time!" He laughed and smiled at me, somehow accepting my ongoing struggle with the most popular vegetable on the line.

I will miss the random, but wonderful, interactions I had at Shell. I met so many different types of people in a perfectly ridiculous setting. I got to know my co-workers, my boss, and my customers in a place that is only meant to serve awkward small talk. I loved pushing conversation boundaries and the many personalities I unearthed during my evening shift.

I will not miss working with fast food, smelling like a bleach taco, or cleaning the meat slicer.