I find myself facinated by the differences between the guests and the short encounters we have. There’s so little that can be known about any guest, but experiencing their personalities is rewarding, I find.
As I was leaving in the morning after my first shift, an American from the south walked up to me and held out a coin. “What kind of coin is this?” he asked in a voice that mixed southern drawl with old man charm. I answered that is was a quarter and he exclaimed, “Well, ain’t that something!”
When I was walking away he offered the usual statement tourists give about here, “It’s really nice here, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is,” I said as I strode to the sidewalk.
The second night we were open some guests from Quebec took it upon themselves to throw the staff a grand opening party. I arrived after it had ended, but when I left this morning I was told to take a bottle of red wine from the celebration. I’ve been sipping a glass of it while writing this post. It’s a nice perk of the job, I’d say.
Most of my waking time has been taken up with reading and work, so I’ve little else to report here. I did have a dream a couple days ago that puzzled me. I don’t remember more than a couple dreams during the course of a year, so I try to hold on to those I do. This one ended with me being told that someone I had been waiting for had already left without seeiing me. Someone in the dream said, “She’s left without seeing you. You’ll likely hate her now.”
I replied with, “I could never do that.”
What is oddest is that I recall saying those same words to her in a very different context but said in exactly the same way I did in the dream. I remember conversations better than most other aspects of memory and I’m left wondering what the meaning of this might be. I’m being terribly vague here, and I must apologize; I’d offer more detail if I felt it proper.
Have a good night friends.