Now that we've officially moved to the other side of Columbus, I'm getting used to new people. The people who are infused in our lives but we don't give much thought to. Of the places I frequent, there is a new Blockbuster, Tim Horton's, Starbucks and Subway that I must familiarize myself with. I must find a new Sam, Norm and Cliff.
But in all the moving, I never officially had my last Frappe, Spicy Italian, Donut or rented my final movie from the places I spent the last two and a half years visiting. And I will miss those people. I will miss Karen, the Blockbuster owner who knew me by name. Who gave me a hard time because I never wanted to sign up for Blockbuster Online because I got movies for free via Discover Card. Who always had an opinion on the movie I was renting. Who got mad at me when I knocked over a shelf. I'll miss one of her managers, Todd who shared a similar taste in movies and who's opinion of movies I came to value.
Then there's the Subway guy. When we talked, he talked about high school basketball. I just listened. Mostly we shared bemused glances because there was always something or someone weird every time we were in there together.
I won't really miss the Tim Horton's people. Every time I got a Boston Creme Donut they took little care in giving it to me. Throwing it into the bag and that inevitably resulted in the chocolate, the best part, getting stuck to the inner linings of the bag. It was a sigh of relief when this morning, from my new TH, I received the same donut in a box. Resulting in an unspoilt layer of chocolate.
I'm not sure what it is or was about these people, but I've come to miss them. Miss that I never got to say goodbye. That I just stopped showing up. Stopped being able to enjoy a conversation with them. They were like characters in a novel I got to know. Then the book ended. There was no final episode. No highlight show. So grand send-off.
These are the small goodbyes. The trifle things that are no more and really weren't much when they were. But in the loss there is a loss of sorts. A loss of the way things were. And that's the toughest of goodbyes.
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7 comments:
It's like visiting or going on vacation. You meet people for a short time, hold a conversation, trade a smile, hug or handshake, say 'thank you,' and move on. The thought comes to your mind that you have never seen these people before and will never see them again, but, for a short time, whether good, bad, or ugly, there you met and life took place.
Life did take place. And now it moves on. I suppose you agree to such relationships with that understanding.
Watch those donuts? The roundness of a donut is easily transferred to "love handles" around your stomach. Forget Sam, Norm and Cliff. I prefer Diane, Carla and the other barflys at Cheers.
A Boston Creme Donut!?! That sounds delicious!
We usually don't realize it until after the fact, but often it is the little moments throughout our lives that make up our fondest of memories, or at the very least tie them together.
The other day I heard music from an ice-cream truck. It was a sound that I hadn't heard in years. And just for a brief second, it took me back to 7 years old at my grandmother's house where I was eating a newly-purchased "blue-ghost" popscicle with a bubblegum nose and I didn't have a care in the world.
I'm sure I'm in a very small minority, but I sort of have this weird fear of getting to know the employees at restaurants and stores.
I guess the thought is that if I go there enough for them to know who I am, they'll think I'm creepy or something.
It's weird, I know. But I intentionally avoid going to the same place often enough that I'd be recognized.
Four Sisters' Diner after a few visits knew that I only ordered French Toast and coffee. Funny, she still called me 'Honey'!
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