I Hear Ya, Universe. I Swear.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
burghbaby

I didn't realize I play favorites with the strangers in my life until I sat in the drive thru line at Starbucks. As I waited for the voice to greet me over the speaker, I realized I was hoping to hear a ray of sunshine.

That ray of sunshine belongs to the barista who wears his joy proudly. His voice smiles and his heart shines through with his every syllable. Everything about him is happy and there is no way to walk away from an encounter with him without grinning. He doesn't try to be joyous. He just is, with every fiber of his being. I've said maybe 20 words to him ever, but each and every encounter has left me basking in the glow of the sunshine he radiates.

His voice was not the one that cut through the silence, though. Instead, it was the voice of an actress. She's the barista I was dreading because it is so very evident that the perky and polite mask that she wears is exactly that -- a mask. She tries very hard to come across as happy, but the efforts are hollow and transparent. She follows a script that she seems to hope will convince people that she's kind, but sometimes she forgets her lines and she's left exposed. I saw it happen for myself once when I ordered Alexis the exact same drink I have ordered for her for a year. "We don't carry that. We've never carried it," the actress replied. What do you say to that? I BOUGHT IT YESTERDAY! She threw down her script and argued the point, showing her true colors as her voice dropped an octave and her eyes turned dark with anger and spite.

She tries to convince the world that she's happy, but she really isn't. All it takes is a few seconds around her co-worker to see the difference between trying to be happy and being built of joy.

As I approached the window, there seemed to be a delay. Of course. People who are trying too hard to be a character they aren't need time to put reposition their masks once in a while. Once the wolf in sheep's clothing finished with the car in front of me, I pulled up and waited. She smiled her artificial smile as she leaned out the window to hand me my drink.

"The car in front of you paid for your drink," she told me. I smiled at the random act of kindness even as I smirked that someone who was trying so hard to exude generosity was being upstaged by a random stranger. I handed over the gift card I had already pulled out of my pocket and handed it to her.

"I'd like to pay it forward, please," I told her.

She smiled her fake smile and continued on with her fake day. She is the barista who once made Alexis cry when she refused to make a favorite drink, but I like that the universe set up my revenge to play out that way.

It's always a good thing when the universe reminds you that kindness wins. Always.

Article originally appeared on burgh baby (http://www.theburghbaby.com/).
See website for complete article licensing information.