Progress Takes Many Forms II

As I mentioned in my previous post, I had not one, but two of those "oh wow" moments we all come to treasure during our transition today.

The first happened at home.

The second came barely 30 minutes later. :c)

After my atypically cheerful daily encounter with my razor, I rewarded myself for a long, successful day of housecleaning by heading off to Starbucks for, yes, toffee nut iced coffee. (What can I say? I know what I like!)

I frequent a handful of Starbucks, depending on what my schedule dictates.

There are several Starbucks within walking distance of my apartment. Well, what *I* consider walking distance (i.e. within 75-90 minutes; what can I tell you? I'm weird!). I could plausibly walk to one of them in 15 minutes if I wanted, but I usually stretch it a bit, partly because I really like to walk and partly because there are some lovely buildings and views along the way that are too pretty to skip.

So, I don't. :c)

Anyway, as this was nearly 7:00 PM on a Sunday, I was the only customer in the store when I arrived.

While all of the baristas are friendly, there are two girls who are particularly outgoing. I only see one of them every few weeks, partly because I don't visit this location frequently and partly because she seems to work irregular shifts.

As it turned out, she happened to be working this night. I hadn't seen her for at least three weeks.

She was working the register when I came in, and greeted me warmly as she always does. She had already rung up my order before I even had my card pulled out to pay - apparently my reputation precedes me.

As I dropped her tip in the jar, she suddenly exclaimed, "Oh, I almost forgot! I have something of yours!"

"You do?" I asked. I had no idea what it was.

She nodded her head.

"It was the last time I saw you here - maybe three Fridays ago. We were chatting as I closed up, and a few minutes after you left I noticed you left a hat and... gee, something else that I can't remember. Anyway, you were gone by the time I realized it."

I told her I didn't remember leaving anything, but given what an airhead I've been lately I wouldn't be surprised if I had.

"Oh, no problem. Just grab a table; I'll run down and get them for you. They've been in lost and found, but I noticed them the other night and put them in my locker for safekeeping."

A few minutes later she came over and sat down.

"I think I imagined the hat," she said, "because when you come in from your walk you always have a baseball hat on. But here's what I was talking about."

She handed me a scarf. 

A blue scarf.

A blue woman's scarf.

"Umm... this isn't mine," I said, not quite sure how to take this. Maybe she thinks it belongs to my wife, or girlfriend, perhaps?

"Oh, really?" she said. "I could swear I've seen you wearing it. I mean, it matches your eyes perfectly."

She was right. And she was being completely sincere.

"Well, thank you," I said, as I could feel my face flush (of course). "But no, I've never seen it before."

"Oh," she said. A moment later she shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, you should take it anyway! It's been here more than two weeks, which is our limit before we donate lost items. And like I said, it would look really cute!"

 I thanked her, but insisted she take the scarf back in case it's rightful owner should return.

After she left, I pondered the possibilities.

She either has simply taken me as a woman, and has ever since I've known her...

Or she hasn't, but thinks I'm androgynous. 

And is perfectly fine with it. 

As I said, she was being genuinely complimentary when she said she thought it would be cute. 

So really, it's a win-win.

And either way, I enjoyed my iced coffee even more than usual!

***

Another perfect song for a glorious early April day, this time from a personal favorite, The Kinks:

My brother and I saw The Kinks at least three times when we were in high school and college, most memorably a few days before Christmas in the early Eighties. 

After three encores, the house lights came up. 

No one left. People simply stood and cheered.

A few minutes later, the house lights suddenly dimmed.

Ray and Dave Davies came out, both carrying acoustic guitars and smiling broadly.

After joking that they had to get going so they could finish their Christmas shopping, they both sat down on the edge of the stage and asked that everyone join in, as they were sure we would all know the words.

And they began playing Christmas carols.

And did so for nearly half an hour, one after another, leading sing-alongs after sing-along. 

They only left when their manager walked out for a second time and said they would miss their flight home if they didn't hurry. 

They left with even bigger smiles, and said they would have happily played all night for us. And they meant it.

To this day it's one of my most cherished concert memories.

God Save The Kinks, indeed!