So, I have lived in Charlottesville for about 6 years now and I didn't notice it until today but I have managed to carve my own little niche here. I have definitely left a decent legacy with some of the Mountain Bike events that I help organize but it was two subtle interactions that I had today that made me realize that I actually live here now.
I had some errands to run this morning before I got to work for what I expected to be a fairly busy day.
My first stop was the Barber Shop. I have been cutting my own hair for a while (with Johanna's help) but it was time to get a professional to do the job. Johanna is out of town and it's a pain in the ass to cut your own hair. Plus it never looks as good as when the pro's do it. I had been going to the same barber shop for a while but since I bought a set of clippers, I hadn't been back. It's not that I don't like the place. It took me a while to find it and I actually like it a lot. The benefit of DIY is the time and money savings. If you show up to a Barber Shop on Saturday morning, you could be waiting two hours for a haircut.
Anyway, I decided to go back to my Barber Shop this morning for a real haircut. I showed up, probably 4th in line and was in the chair about 25 minutes after I showed up. The barber greeted me, said he hadn't seen me in a while, I mumbled something about being out of town, then he asked me how I wanted my hair cut. (They always ask). I told him what I wanted and he finished up by asking about how I like the front cut. Something like "No shaping in the front right?" Of course that was right. I hadn't been there in probably a year and he remembered exactly what I wanted.
I didn't think much of it until my next stop...Oil Change...
I drove to the shop where I usually get my oil changed. They aren't the cheapest place in town but I trust their work and they always explain things to me when I have questions. I never feel rushed and they can usually fit me in.
I parked my car and went into the office to see if I could drop the car off for an oil change. The guy said "sure" and asked me when I wanted to pick it up. He started to write up a slip and already knew my last name and the model, year and color of my car. I drive a lot so maybe I am one of his more frequent customers, but who expects a random auto shop to remember your last name. I don't. I feel like that something that happens to middle-aged people that have lived in a town most of their lives.
It made me feel kind of weird.
I don't think either one of these alone would have given me enough clues to come to the realization that I had today. But between the Barber Shop and the Auto Shop...I guess I have been around for a while.
2 comments:
You know who´s gonna know my last name? The people at bodos when i start working there next week.
:(
jk
wow, six years?!?!? thats crazy man, time flies!
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