A Letter to my Coworkers

Dear Coworkers,

Y’all already know I have a flair for the melodramatic, so bear with me here. It’s going to get a little sappy.

These last two years have been far from easy. And sometimes y’all were the ones who contributed to that. But you’ve been the ones who get me through the tough times too. We’ve been together through thick and thin, holiday rushes and sleepy summer afternoons, life changes and the despair that the days will run together endlessly for the rest of forever.

When I first rolled up to that coffee shop I was just looking for a job. Almost five months of unemployment was getting scary and I didn’t care that the commute was arguably insane. I’d had experience in the coffee world before, and was bracing myself for another few years under the thumb of a corporate siren. But after being taken in like a beaten rescue puppy and unlearning some things, I realized a barista gig could actually be fun.

We’ve laughed and griped. We’ve coached each other through questionable relationships. We’ve lore-dumped our latest hyperfixations. We’ve tried to set each other up with the cute regulars. We’ve swapped so much music. We’ve shared more about ourselves than even our families and friends know. The amount of blackmail I've got on some of you is insane.

You were the ones who taught me that workplace community is everything, and that, for better or worse, it’s imperative to get along with the people you spend a large chunk of your life surrounded by. There were some people that have come and gone that were a lesson in being the bigger person. Which, as one of the shortest people in the shop, has not been easy. The communication skills I’ve learned are not something I will quickly forget. Y’all remind me daily how to be an advocate for myself and others, even if it’s something as simple as taking the full half hour break or speaking up for the shy customer who didn’t want whipped cream on their mocha. Speaking up was not something I’d ever been able to really grasp in the past and this place helped me come out of my shell.

My last job in coffee was marked with jumps. I was a latte loner, as it were, shuffled in the craze that was covid between stores. No one could keep me long, there was always another confirmed case, another shut down, a dozen other people who were just as desperate to hold onto their jobs. I was a poor little orphaned cafe employee who never stayed in one place long enough to make lasting connections. When I was offered the position here, however, I was ready to put down some roots. I needed friends.

You were the ones that told me to take the leap, sign up for the class, apply for the big girl job, and seize the opportunity offered; even if it meant no more early mornings and late nights pretending to be professionals while slinging hundreds of cups of coffee. I’ll miss our spontaneous coffee bar karaoke and the unholy amount of cold brew we chugged every Saturday morning rush in the name of team bonding.

I guess what I’m trying to say with all of this is thank you. Thank you for the good times and the bad. Thank you for being my home. It’s a crazy, dysfunctional, laugh-till-you-cry mess sometimes, but I think that’s what makes it a family. I will miss you dearly, and swear I will hold good to the promise I made. “Don’t be a stranger.”

The coffee certainly helps too.