I'm ok, Your [not] ok.

I thought that one possible subject for this blog would be my job. After all, being a barista in a small town seems to be comprable being a bartender. The fact that your behind a counter serving drinks, overwhelms people with the urge to tell you strange facts about themselves. There are plenty of stories to be had from the people in this town. Most are very rural stories full of local color.

An Interesting fact about this town is that the longer I work here the more people I meet that most people would term 'crazy.' I'm not really sure what it is about this town or maybe just this shop that attracts them, but I have regulars that tell me about everything from, how they plan to become immortal to how they built a bike (you know, the kind to pedal) that can fly. So please believe me when I say I'm not going out on a limb to say these regulars are a little off.

We also have the collection of strange but sane customers. Well not so much customers... well alright not customers at all. People ranging from crack addicts to just plain weird. They either just come in here to use and abuse our Internet access or to do odd jobs for a little cash to get that crack rock. Oddly enough all these people have one thing in common. 98% of the time I cant understand a single word they say. They may as well be speaking Russian, there's one imparticular that I play charades with, and another that we all have taken up the strategy of 'smile and nod' for. I suppose it is safe to assume that the 'downtown' area of small towns is no longer a quaint and quiet place to run a business. Well, quiet as far as business goes, yes I'll subscribe to that, however, It's quite dramatic. Everyone knows what everyone else is doing or the latest gossip about Mr. Hinkleberry up the street and his new dog. This being the town that it is, I would not be in the least bit surprised if Mr. Hinkleberry's dog talked, or was an immortal guru....that flys....

The only regularly sane customers that I get are, oddly enough, the after school kids, usually around 12-13 years of age. I guess they just have not been exposed to the water here long enough to actually loose all touch with their reasoning powers. That being said, I urge you children, use protection when dealing with people in this town, your mental wellness is at steak.