Nobody puts baillee in the corner

When I first wrote this piece, I didn’t realize it was actually my goodbye letter to the store I loved. Every farewell letter I tried to write sounded emotionless and calculated. It was like I had built a wall, and I couldn’t write a single word that described how I actually felt but rather how I thought I was supposed to be feeling. I was supposed to be stoic and strong, and quite frankly, I didn’t think I could bring myself to compose my store’s swan song. So I didn’t. I kept putting it off, hoping one day I would be able to show others the life and passion in those walls. I wanted to make others see what we saw. It wasn’t just a place. It was a home. A community. A family. It was where my adulthood began. It was where I cried about boys and laughed about the same ones later. It was where I drank coffee and listened to Barenaked Ladies every morning. It was my home.

Finally, my subconscious fought its way to the surface. I realized as I typed the last word that it was something more than a draft glorifying comedy; it was all of things I had been struggling to say for almost three months. With all of the formalities out of the way, I give you my goodbye letter to the store I miss every single day.

I’ve always been fortunate enough to like the people I’ve worked with. I bonded with my fellow teens in the water park concession stand  whilst knee-deep in nacho cheese. I’ve made so many cups of coffee in the proverbial break room (aka my room as an RA) that Lorelai Gilmore would adopt me as her own. I’ve giggled over groceries while my cashier buddies made goofy faces from across the store as they restocked. My current job is no different; however, the glue that held together my staff is unique.

Late one night, I was closing with a coworker. As he mopped, he muttered a line under his breath I instantly recognized from John Mulaney’s first stand up special, New in Town. We realized we shared a lot of comedic interests (especially with him being a stand up comedian), and I would dare to argue this was one of the foundations of our very friendship. We started spewing out John Mulaney one-liners every time we worked together and eventually started a podcast (shout out to my first HelloGiggles piece). But the story doesn’t end there.

A couple of weeks later, I made one of my best friends and her boyfriend watch New in Town with me. Again, John Mulaney one-liners (and soon entire bits) became a part of our every day vernacular, so when she was hired at the same store where I worked, these same one-liners became a part of our workplace jargon. We expanded upon the Madge voice from his bit about The New York Post and stayed in character until our throats ached thus derailing any and every serious moment. New in Town proved to be a gateway comedy special. As our staff evolved, Steve Martin, Bo Burnham, Louis C.K., Mike Birbiglia, and so many more started oozing into our everyday speech. Shows like 30 Rock, The Office, Spongebob, The Mighty Boosh (specifically Old Gregg), and eventually Rick and Morty also followed suit. Comedy started trickling its way into each and every one of our workplace activities. If anything could be remotely connected to New in Town or any of the aforementioned entities, we couldn’t wait to quote it as soon as we were the only ones left in the store. I even made my mom watch the special when she came to Austin for Christmas just to make sure she understood what we were quoting.

Eventually the first mentioned coworker/friend and I got to actually see John Mulaney perform stand up at the Moontower Comedy and Oddity Festival in Austin (where we love our milkshakes), and it made me realize the importance of cultivating friendships with your coworkers. Sure, there are downsides, but for the most part, it’s pretty rad to be able to talk about anything with the people you work with; some of my best friends to this very day are former coworkers from assorted jobs over the year, and my current job is no different. We may have gone different directions, but I think about y’all everyday. Thank you, John Mulaney for inadvertently creating a workplace community from your comedy, and don’t worry, I’m wearing reading glasses to show that time has passed.

P.S. To this day, my mom will only refer to you as “that cute little Catholic boy who wears his communion suit.”