Yet another massive Nor’easter had shut things down and I was so VERY over it. I hated they gray. Hated the snow and never-ending winter. Hated my neighbors and their parking spot hogging, Tejano music blaring, garbage spilling genially oblivious ways. I hated this stupid city running around ticketing and towing everyone they could.

And I’ll confess, the thing I hated most was my own poor planning – no coffee or chocolate in the house during a storm while PMSing? I know better than that.

Tired and stressed out, I gave in and had a cranky pity party, ranting to a friend that I thought maybe this was it- I couldn’t take this place any more and I was seriously considering how to pull off a move because, what the hell! It’s not like I have any ties here anyway!

Cue the Wayne’s World transition sequence…

Say such things and the universe takes note, deciding to show me what a rough week really looked like. The next 24 hours brought news of one death, one recurrence of cancer and one unbelievable tragedy to a beloved granddaughter.

The surprising part wasn’t how hard it all hit me, or the support given and received. It wasn’t even the unexpected fits of bawling that crept up on me.

No, the surprising part was that these things were happening to coworkers, not family.

This place that had become impossible to work full time had morphed into a pleasure to work at part time, and despite having not had a real day off in weeks, it had proven hard to give up. The comparatively few hours I was able to work made me something of a novelty and my arrival was greeted with cheers and all the latest gossip, not to mention bear hugs. And we could all use more bear hugs in our lives.

Hearing all of this terrible news in our little group took some processing. The hugs were a little fiercer, the admonitions of “you’d better take care of yourself, dammit,” a bit more pointed. With a funeral the next day and emotional exhaustion knocking me off my feet, there was no way I was cooking dinner, so when I clocked out, I headed to our odd little Italian joint for some takeout.

This place, well, let’s be honest: I’ve made fun of it quite a lot. They have a killer weekday take out pizza for $9.99 and pour a mean drink. But the patrons tend to be a little…colorful. Imagine Cheers set not in a big city but in a town struggling to get by in the shadow of a big city. Even the name- “Youngest Brother” – seems like it has a little bit of a chip on its shoulder.

I never order ahead of time, instead saddling up to the bar with my phone or other distraction in hand so I can just eavesdrop, and I’ve never left without some nugget of “wisdom” to share when I get home.* I don’t really interact with anyone, preferring the fly-on-the-wall approach because I genuinely don’t know what would come out of my mouth if they asked me what I thought about our current government or why everyone ought to be allowed to walk around with bazookas if they want to.**

So imagine my surprise when I walk in and get a big sort of…cheer? From behind the bar? And I’m kind of looking around to see who they’re excited about? And a little confused because I’m the only one around? And before I get to a barstool, a very large, very strong Jack and Coke is waiting for me with Mary the barmaid announcing to all and sundry how THRILLED she is that I’m there, because they’re “all fucking nuts” and she needed to talk to somebody “smart” and “regular” (quotes, all) for once.

None of which made a whole lot of sense to me, because I really couldn’t tell you about a single conversation I’ve had there, other than once being told that I was weird for not liking cannoli, but that I was probably still a “keeper” because I still brought them home for Mr. Pixel.

And then I actually allowed myself to get drawn into the fringes of the argument currently going on- whether getting bagels hot out of the oven were worth driving an hour away at 6am.  For what it’s worth, I was firmly on the “no” side, but then again there’s very little I’d be willing to schlep to do at that hour.

But while the debate raged around me, I marveled at this thing that had happened without my realizing it. Somehow, despite my feeling isolated, alone, and adrift, I’d made some connections after all. It wasn’t exactly what or how I’d pictured things, but it turns out that it’s still pretty nice to show up where, as the song says, “everybody knows your name.”

Even if you’re not quite sure how they learned it.

*My possible favorite was the night Charlie Brown’s Great Pumpkin was on, and a very lively conversation ensued about how, these days, adults would just screw everything up, not like back then (?) when kids could be kids… and Lucy would be considered a bully!

I mean…isn’t the Lucy thing kind of a central point of the story you’re supposed to take away? And adults could give kids rocks for treats, I guess that’s a good, character building sort of thing from this point of view? And small kids could stay out all night lost in the pumpkin patch? I don’t know, but it certainly always gives me something to chew over and consider because, frankly, these aren’t the sorts of people I’ve normally had in my life.

**actual discussion one night