Hezo Kittie

So I started working at Starbucks a little over a month ago, and needless to say, I really enjoy it. I work in the evenings mostly, when the customers are few and far in between relative to the morning rushes, and maybe it's because of the holiday season, but the people who come in are almost always friendly. And not just polite, but when there's no line, and a weary mom has come for her latte after a long day of Christmas shopping, she will still go out of her way to strike up a quick conversation. It's these people I feel privileged to serve when I'm on the floor.

But the customers aren't the only ones who make my job interesting; all of the other baristas are amazing, and I can't remember the last time I've gotten along so well with a group of people. There truly is no common thread between any of us since many of them don't drink coffee, yet I can joke and talk and greet them as if we've always known each other.

Last Sunday my manager was the one who closed the store, although it's usually the shift supervisors. But the ironic thing that Dooner later told me was that Molly, the store manager, didn't let him have an extra person help close until about 8, because she said, "Joey [the Assistant Manager] doesn't need one, so you shouldn't need one."

We really could've used that extra shift that night, because we weren't able to get much done with three people, and ended up finishing the close half an hour late.

And not only that, but when Molly was on bar, she messed up an impatient man's drink twice, and I don't mention this to criticize her but merely to hope she sees firsthand what we have to put up with before being quick to point out our mistakes. Most managers are hired as such, instead of being promoted to one, so they don't necessarily know the smaller nuances of being on the floor.

I've never been fond of higher authorities of any sort. Which isn't to say I'm an anarchist or rebellious in any way, but that I never envied their power or position much. I guess I'm not much of a leader, meaning, technically, I'm not college material either.

I've always had an aversion to most teachers because I thought they were out to get me. Sophomore year, when I had Clawson, my ink cartridge on my printer ran out on the first page of my homework packet, but the rest was fine. But when she graded it, after not being able to read all of the first page, she proceded to mark every other page down in every possible way. When I went asked her about it a few days later, she actually told me that she was mad that she couldn't read the first page, and it reflected on her grading for the rest of it.

I've always been neutral towards Sater, but this year she really bothers me. It's probably because, once she realized that I haven't been good about doing my homework, she started becoming more critical on subjective parts of labs and tests, marking me down much more than normal. I knew she was starting to get angry at our class in general, but taking it out on our work instead of making an effort to help us understand the material would've been a better use of her teaching power.

So when I was writing my college essays and mentioned my 11th grade English class, I thought of Kinavey and how different he was from other teachers I've had in the past. And when I was almost ready to really like him and even had a mix cd ready for him, when that final bell rang mid-June, I was gone. I've only seen him once this year for a split second, but it'd be great just to talk to him at least one more time so he can drop some knowledge before we part ways.

It's ironic when I finished my applications and thought to myself, "Finally, I can start caring about things I want to care about." Like taking time to learn new concepts in physics and for video. And maybe I'll understand the physics chapter and take the test just fine, but Sater will be too busy marking me down on random parts of other assignments to notice. And maybe I'll spend three days straight, six hours at a time, to churn out our video for minimal loss of credit, but England will think I'm a slacker because I wasn't paying attention to the movie he was showing on the big screen.

And maybe I can have a day like today, where I can take a nap, read my all-time favorite publication, the Californian, cover to cover, watch my favorite basketball team sink a game winner in overtime, make a cup of green tea, sit down with the new Death Cab, and blog.

"If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks,
Then I will follow you into the dark"