Both of these happened today, and left me smiling through my whole shift.
Story 1:
As I walked into the station at the start of my shift, a preschool child waiting in their parent’s car calls out “Are you a train driver?”
“No,” I reply, “I sell tickets.”
“You work in the office here?”
“Yup.”
“When’s the next train on Platform 1?”
“6 minutes.”
“Thank you.”
(Punctuated behind this, parent’s urgent whispering to be quiet & stop bothering me, with laughter eventually taking over.)
Story 2:
Mother comes to the counter to purchase son’s season ticket for his first term at school. Son is initially engaged elsewhere, but as soon as he sees what’s happening he runs over. “Hi!”
“Hello. Are you looking forward to school?” I enquire.
“Yes. I notice you’ve changed your hair.” That’s exactly how he said it, and it’s been a while since I saw him last. Very astute for a 5 year old - and he’s right, I had a haircut today before work, so I thank him for noticing.
“Why are your nails pink?” he then asks. Obviously this might not go so well, as I am a big beardy bloke that just happens to enjoy painting his nails, so I think carefully before answering:
“Because I didn’t want to use the blue polish today.”
“You should use blue tomorrow…” (My heart skips a beat as I fear the worst. Mother looks ready to apologise for any offence he may be about to cause.) “Blue’s my favourite colour.” And with that, he’s happy. He sees no problem with me using nail polish, nor pink.
It’s interactions like these that help restore your faith in humanity. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to repaint my nails bright blue.
Story 1:
As I walked into the station at the start of my shift, a preschool child waiting in their parent’s car calls out “Are you a train driver?”
“No,” I reply, “I sell tickets.”
“You work in the office here?”
“Yup.”
“When’s the next train on Platform 1?”
“6 minutes.”
“Thank you.”
(Punctuated behind this, parent’s urgent whispering to be quiet & stop bothering me, with laughter eventually taking over.)
Story 2:
Mother comes to the counter to purchase son’s season ticket for his first term at school. Son is initially engaged elsewhere, but as soon as he sees what’s happening he runs over. “Hi!”
“Hello. Are you looking forward to school?” I enquire.
“Yes. I notice you’ve changed your hair.” That’s exactly how he said it, and it’s been a while since I saw him last. Very astute for a 5 year old - and he’s right, I had a haircut today before work, so I thank him for noticing.
“Why are your nails pink?” he then asks. Obviously this might not go so well, as I am a big beardy bloke that just happens to enjoy painting his nails, so I think carefully before answering:
“Because I didn’t want to use the blue polish today.”
“You should use blue tomorrow…” (My heart skips a beat as I fear the worst. Mother looks ready to apologise for any offence he may be about to cause.) “Blue’s my favourite colour.” And with that, he’s happy. He sees no problem with me using nail polish, nor pink.
It’s interactions like these that help restore your faith in humanity. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to repaint my nails bright blue.
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