For the Love of June (part 2)

She was a middle aged woman who had come in before. Like June, she was reserved and slightly rude out of what seemed like a necessity for all of the people who had been unnecessarily mean to her, rather than the disposition she would've wished to have consistently carried herself with.

The woman approached my counter ignoring my pleasantries and skipping any of her own. She said, "This is going to be a difficult order. I don't care how it looks, just make it happen." With that I was completely determined to make whatever she asked for work in an effort to make her happy somehow some damn way.

I pushed buttons. I manually typed things in for her. In the end, she walked away only to turn back with a genuine smile and said the words to me, "Thanks, you guys are always so nice to me every time I come in here." I am not easily emotional, but those words nearly melted me. This woman looked ragged and beaten down by a malicious world; like she had been picked on unwarranted her entire life. Now, in this seemingly small act, my cafe had become somewhat of a safe haven. I treated her and everyone else who walks through our doors the same way because of the lessons I had learned inadvertently through June years before. This was the pinnacle of my coffee career. When I looked down she had tipped me $7.

To her, all of the Junes out there and anyone else out there desperately searching for someone to simply be nice to them: come on into my place of business. I'll serve you up a sincere smile too.