So there was I, queued up bleary-eyed at Aldi, having — happily — just discovered that there is a new “12” strength Expressi coffee, named “abruzzo”. Beat that, Spinal Tap. I had no interest in the title, or the roast, of course. Only the strength number.
Excellent. That will be the usual purchase then. A full 6 pack tray. Easier to carry with no bag that way.
A pretty young lass of no more than 20 years or so, wearing a badge bearing the word “Kayla”, went through the motions behind the till. I could not help but notice her sullen and disinterested demeanour as she scanned and swiped for the customers ahead of me.
When my turn came, I received a pleasant surprise. “Kayla” breezily sent me on my way with a sunny smile (*shock!*) and the words, “Have a good day darl.”
How nice to hear.
Of course, I have little doubt the addendum was of no significance to her, and was rather a simple matter of habit. But I am only a little embarrassed to confess that … well … it felt good.
And that feeling, got me to pondering.
About the power of a single word.
Spoken at the right time. To the right person.
Here, a good example.
Here, by happy chance, a bored young girl crossed paths with a tired old bloke who, having long since turned his back on the futility of relationship games — and the word “games” used here with intent — had, in consequence, not, in many a year, enjoyed the small pleasure of hearing a comment directed his way that might, in other context, be construed as a mild expression of personal affection.
And so, with thanks likely due to nothing more than an unconscious habit that some might, unkindly, refer to as “bogan-speak”, one little four letter word spoken aloud served to brighten that bleary-eyed bloke’s morning.
Sufficiently so as to render the 12 strength coffee (almost) unnecessary.