The day I never thought would actually has come. In a few days, I will be
off to Idaho for college. In fact, by the time you read this, I will have
attended at least my first college class. It’s honestly the strangest thing.
Yesterday was another day I never thought would come: after three years, and
four summers, my last day working at the Rockford Café.
Three years ago, the summer of 2010,
a few weeks before my sophomore year in high school, I had been eating dinner
at the café with my good friend, Bret. Bret’s sister, Lexi, had been
waitressing while she was home for summer, but had to go back to college soon.
She jokingly suggested Mary should hire me, and what do you know, a few days
later I walked in for my first day of washing dishes. The rest is history! I
fell in love with every single one of my “café ladies” and their husbands.
They’re not just “people I work with.” They’re my aunts, my uncles, my best
friends. They’re my family.
Walking in that August day as a fifteen-year-old,
I didn’t expect any of this. It was my first job, and I thought that was all it
would be. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The ladies who cook and serve you
breakfast, lunch, and dinner—I mean breakfast, dinner, and supper…right?—are
some of the sweetest, most caring, giving, genuine, loving, selfless people I
know and will ever know. They taught me how to work hard, bite my tongue, be
kind to everyone, serve others, and loosen up—not to mention how to brew
coffee, peel potatoes, and “give the floor a good scrubbing.” Since day one,
they have looked out for me in and out of the restaurant. They sewed my prom
dresses and coats and put on my graduation open house. They had long talks with
me about boys, traveling, and my dreams for the future. They put up with me for
6-10 hour shifts. But, let’s be honest. Most importantly and impressively, they
learned how to decipher my handwriting.
So I guess you could say my last day
was a little difficult. My sweet regulars remembered it was my last day and
wished me luck and safe travels, but besides that, it was like any other
workday. Except for when I looked at the phone, and I remembered the first
night I got a prank call from Kenny Ames for a sixty-something-piece chicken
basket to be left by the back door two hours after closing time…and the time Leonard
Kaul called for a “Schwaberry Milkshake” from the booth across the room. Every
time I looked at the sweets table, I remembered the first time I came in for a
caramel roll and chocolate milk when I was ten years old. And every time I
picked up the dishes tub, I remembered the time I dropped it, full of dishes.
What? Ok, moving on…
As I logged in my time card for the last time, I said goodbye to the
greatest pair of sisters I know: Lucy and Mary. Mary shook her head, and with a
wink, told me, “You’ll be back.” I walked out the back door and looked over my
shoulder for the last time. I was surprised and at the same time unsurprised to
realize I was crying. I’m going to miss that sweet, small-town, home-cooking
café, where I waited on my first table, ate my first BLT, and became part of the
Rockford Café family. Thank you to everybody who made me feel like a member of
their family at the café, whether I got the honor of working with you or simply
taking your order. By the way, Mary, I expect this column to be framed on the
wall the next time I’m home! Also, I could have written about my experience at
the Taylor Swift concert this week, so you REALLY know I love you all. See you
next year.
Always, Anna
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