Cashier, Chipotle in San (N. 1st st)
You are herein referred to as "Ankha" because of your taste in accouterments. Ankha, You are friendly, funny, engaging, caring, polite, thoughtful, and sweet! Our time may have been limited together, and you didn't make my food... but you made my day. Even if we don't speak or see each other, I wanted to let the world know how truly a person like local older ladies searching casual encounter mature fucks you is. My day has been, for a lack of appropriate adjectives, "not good". Things have been lately, and I had just awoken to bring my roommate to do whatever it is that roommates do over there. Roommate-face was somewhere between "waffle-ish" + "but I don't wannnaaa" and "Why is it so hard, it's all bullshit" so trying to entice him to LET ME HELP HIM was kind of irksome. On a whim, I decide to stop by Chippy's because I had missed my turn to get back to 101. I enter the building with my friend and we join the late lunch line, mid-afternoon. We casually chat about whatever the f*ck that thing is on the wall. Some sort of Mayan god head art. It has too many screws for something that's got moving parts. It's my turn to watch tortillas get steamed up for me. The first girl to help me was nice and quickly began assembling my order. I ask about the soy-sauce colored rice. Whole grain? Sweet. As I approached the register, you ask me if I want anything else. This is when I see you. You were smiling at me and my awkward self-defense kicked in. I quickly fumble over a drink choice, trying not to study your face. I like your jewelry... #1 is wrapping up my food like a pro. I look at you for a second as you begin to ring up my order. Your smile hasn't left your face yet. I begin to speak up because I wanted to be sure that you charged for the double-steak in one of the two burritos JUST AS #1 is saying that thing. I look at you a little more while you finish ringing up my order. #1 begins to -tag and bag my food, and this is where you become nice. I make a self-deprecating joke about how there's no need to them, I'm a fatass anyhow. #1 slightly gasps. You tell me you eat burritos bigger than that all the time after a little laugh. THEN... you tell me that you like my shirt. I know "I like your shirt" doesn't mean "hey, you're so sexy" or even "Hey, I think you're cute". I'm not going to read into it... but this is why you're amazing: You work a position in the industry that has turned many people jaded/sour (and rightly so, fucktards abound). And yet, you smile. You joke, you converse, and you genuinely seemed to mean "have a great day". Your bright mood actually infects others with brightness. You changed my day, and I wanted to say thank you. Also, you're cute :3 --The (t-shirt wearing fatass) (Anyone reading this: if the other staff is half as good, you probably won't be trying to eat a burrito like a rancor any time soon. They have a small, nondescript tip cube too =p)
Graig
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