A Persons a Person

First and foremost, I must apologize for my lack of writing. My excuses seem unimpressive so I’ll leave them home. Let it be. I’m here now.

It’s turning winter time. The first snow today. I’m not ready for winter. It seems I need all new stuff now. Boots, coats, socks, and a whole new attitude.

My coffee shop has music that plays constantly. Some of it isn’t bad, but I really prefer my own music. Some people refer to me as a hipster of sorts, but I don’t see myself that way. My music taste is of a diverse library. I enjoy Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell; I rock The Antlers and Mumford and Sons, but then I listen to Beethoven and DeBussy when the mood strikes. I love Justin Timberlake and Eminem, but I can just as easily listen to Josh Turner and Kenny Chesney. Then I love Eddie Vedder and Bob Schneider more than the toes on my feet. RockCountryElevatorTunesClassicalR&BSlowJams. It’s all the same to me.

The other day I had plugged my iPod classic into the hook up in the back. I was anxious to listen to some Pearl Jam and Bob Schneider that I had recently added to my collection. It’s reasonable to say that I am in the best mood while listening to my favorite music.

This morning in particular, as I was singing Honeypot, a woman came in wearing gym attire. There is a fitness center on the second floor of the hotel so this is common attire for guests. This woman was sweating, and smelled of pool water and a garlic clove. I was gaily singing along when I asked her how I could help her.

“I want a parfait, and a SKINNY Pumpkin Spice latte. SKINNY.” I agreed to the terms of SKINNY, although skinny meant that the beverage be non-fat milk and sugar-free syrup. The Pumpkin Spice latte cannot be SKINNY. It can be made non-fat and no whip. In any other cade I would have corrected her to avoid confusion, but a line would soon be developing. I proceeded to make her latte.

“Okay, so the parfait,” handing her a spoon, “and the Venti pumpkin spice latte are $10.83.”

“Charge it to my room.” She said abruptly and grabbing the Venti Pumpkin Spice latte out of my hands. “It’s SKINNY?!” She said again taking off the lid.

If anything annoys me it’s when I am talked to as if I am a dweeb off the street. I am a barista. I know what the hell I’m doing.

“Yes Ma’am, “ I said like my mama always taught me.

Looking at the beverage without the lid on the woman then said, -“Is that whipped cream?! I wanted it skinny. That means no whipped cream.”

“No, ma’am,” I said again just like my mama taught me. “That’s just foam.”

She then took a hesitant slurp. “That’s some good froth.” Her lip hosting a white mustache.

At this point I’m annoyed, but not showing it.

“For a room charge I’ll need you to sign this.” Setting a paper in front of her.

I verified the information to avoid further issues, and she again questioned me.

“Why do I even need to fill this out if you’re asking me?”

“I’m just verifying that that’s the right room and such to avoid issues when checkout comes. Do you know what I mean?”

“Okay, no I don’t, but whatever.”

I have a tendency to just look at people when they are rude. It’s better for me to have no reaction than to give sass, which I have plenty of.

She walked out sneering and fussy.

This is just a small taste of the snots that the service industry gets. I was having a splendid morning until she came along. I have learned to not let it get to me.

This woman. Her last name I know, and will never forget. This woman doesn’t know me. She doesn’t know that I am a fulltime student, and I work at my coffee shop full time as well. I am double coded. She doesn’t know that I am an aspiring author. She doesn’t know that my grandparents are both in the hospital and I’ve been away from home for two years. She doesn’t know that I am going to be somebody one day.

She doesn’t know that everyone that reads this thinks that she a piece of work.

I am not angry at the treatment I receive. It just reminds me that everyone is person, and deserve to be treated with respect. What’s that Dr. Seuss quote?

“A persons a person no matter how small.”

Although I am not small physically I am small in the food chain of industry. I am just a barista. That is just for the time being. Someday I will be just what I want to be.

The woman left that day, and I went back to singing along with the music that resolves the soul. Just breathe, says Eddie Vedder. I’ve got a mountain to climb ‘fore I get over this hill, says Bob Schneider.

Indeed, I agree. I’ve got a long way to get before I get back home. I’ve got to find myself ‘fore I can ever be alone.

No, this woman didn’t know me. I don’t know her, but I know people deserve love. People deserve respect.

I guess I could say thank you to this woman for reminding me of the importance of the little people.

A persons a person no matter how small.

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About Kelly R. Storts

A name is so specific, and yet so general. I am a Kelly. There are many Kelly’s in this overwhelming world. I am Kelly, and I am from Dallas. I am sure that there are thousands of Kelly’s from Dallas. Names mean so much to people. Names tend to define people through the origin, spelling, the handwriting. I am Kelly Brianne, but it’s not my name that sets me apart. I am a swirl, a twist of emotions. I enjoy classical music and a pounding of rock. When I feel love my entire being starts to shake, and like Peter Pan, I feel my skin glow. I revolve around helping people. My strengths are my greatest weaknesses. I love love, and I love others in love. I love to write, read and share my writing with all the interesting people I meet. I may be a Kelly from Dallas, but I am my own Kelly.
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