On fall fluff and declarations of appreciation

Today's one of those days that really feel like fall. It's a day I want to spend cooped up at home, wrapped up in a big duvet and reading with a huge cup of tea while listening to Nell. Obviously that's not going to happen, because of work and stuff, but all in all I feel kinda good about stuff while feeling pleasantly fall-melancholy. The trees are all turning red and gold now, and it's time to start wrapping up huge scarves and fluffy things.

Not a viable option, according to Shan.

For the same strange reason the world seemed to want to punish me on Monday, it seemed to want to be my friend again yesterday, because so many adorable things happened at work and I left last night in a really good (albeit tired) mood. The first thing that happened was that Shan had found my keys. That in and of itself was cause for massive celebration - they'd spent the night in the outside serving area, probably falling out of my coat when I was getting ready to leave Monday night. Those fuckers could've escaped to anywhere and I would've been left with a world of trouble - having to change locks, having to get Mafune a new lock for the work locker and having to look like a bit of an idiot... I was just happy to not have to do all of that crap. Shan laughed at me first before giving me the parental stern talking-to (along with the parental worst case scenario) that the gravity of the situation required. "You have to be more careful! What'll happen when your friends don't hear your phone call? You're a girl, you can't sleep on the streets!"

It was a slow day of people being completely adorable to me. First, when I'd just arrived, there was this Japanese old couple who came in for some sushi. I tried speaking to them in Japanese, but my brain was tired so I didn't do a very good job, and I felt kinda embarrassed at my blunders. They were really cute about it though, and when I brought them tea the old man crammed something in my hand that felt like plastic wrappers. "Okay, so he wants me to throw these away," I thought, walking back to my work station, but then when I opened my hand I saw that it was a small handful of little individually wrapped Japanese candies, and I just melted a little bit inside.

Before they left in the cab I'd called them, the husband came up to me at my work station again, showing me his nifty pack of Lotte's gum, took a piece, offered me one, and then pushed the package into my hands going "Keep it! You don't have this stuff here." These little presents from people who come from a culture who don't tip made me feel like I'd been tipped hundreds of dollars. Even if my language skills were rusty, it was the clearest A for effort I think I've ever received. I love these sweet little Japanese grandmas and grandpas that come by.

I shared my candy with my coworkers, because hey, I'm just that nice. I offered a piece to Bata, thinking he'd be too much of a serious adult to want my precious old man candy, but he pretty much jumped at the chance looking really happy and being super nice to me for the rest of the afternoon. Bata reminds me of a dog I used to know when I was small that barked a lot, who'd scared some neighbourhood kids so that they'd thrown stones at it, and it was scared of children. One day on my way home from school, I spent hours edging closer to it, until it wasn't scared of me anymore and let me pet it. I just get the feeling that Karate Husband isn't treating him (or the other Mongolians, at that) all that nicely, so I try to cut them some slack and do nice things for them whenever I can.

I was hit on in a rather cute and charming way by one of a group of six South East Asians who came to the restaurant last night. They plopped themselves down at a table for four, despite there being several larger tables available. When I asked them if they really were comfortable and if they wouldn't like to move to a different table, they all laughed and said that it was 'their' table, and how much they really liked it. As always with Asian customers, they were very easy to manage. Asian customers are never rude, and these six were really nice and friendly. One of them kept looking at me, and I thought that maybe I was doing something wrong or he was annoyed at me being slow or careless or something. When clearing their table of some of their dishes, I asked for a dish that I couldn't reach. "Can I have that plate over there?" "You can have my heart!" the silent onlooker exclaimed to the roar of his friends' laugh. I laughed too, and then spent the rest of the evening wishing I'd figured out a witty comeback instead of just blushing, in much the same way you do after you've been in an argument. "I think I'll have to take it, seeing as you just stole mine!" or something equally smart, I don't know. I thought it was adorable anyways, and it made me smile for the rest of the evening. When Swedes hit on me at the restaurant, it's normally more iffy than cute and far more likely to be alcohol-fueled. I prefer this playful banter by far.