The Hippie Side Strikes Again

My hippie side first rang out when I entered Half Priced Books in Kenwood, Ohio.

After I spent an hour drooling over the shelves and shelves of books, I began to truly notice the people: free spirits.

The cashier who completed my transaction had two lower lip piercings, wore thin, silver-rimmed glasses, and it looked like her dirty blonde hair (ahem) had not been brushed in weeks.

Her t-shirt, which was too small for her figure made an earth-friendly statement. Her skirt, which was too short for her legs, flowed and puffed with such freedom that its length and appearance were only small distractions to the overall presentation of her person.

She made me smile and I left with joy in my heart and an extra skip in my step.

Lovely. (Though I will not return to those days of that kind of "hippie-hood.")

When I arrived for my shift at Starbucks the eco-girl I have always wanted to be came floating through the door.

Her hair was a lovely brick red, her eyes were green, and her skin appeared to be blemish free. (Probably because she shops at Whole Foods and only eats organic.)

As she ordered her tall, soy, Earl Gray latte in a "for here" mug, I continued to stare at her face. (These hippie sightings are rare in Ohio. I take them in when I get the chance.)

Her eyes were free from mascara and yet she looked neither sickly nor tired. (Lucky girl.) Though her smile was limp and didn't show much enthusiasm, her lips were a nice mauve and make up for the awkward expression.

She wore comfortable, freely moving garments that made me envy her ability to pull off the look.

Her crocheted hat was the color of Ohio-ian wheat fields in the summer and her knitted cardigan was the burnt yellow I wish I could wear.

Predictably, yet with a freshness in her step, she took her earth-preserving, conservation-providing, recyclable mug to the outside patio where she pulled out her, (I have no doubt,) "tree free" journal and pen to aide her in documenting her life philosophies.

As she sat outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun; I was inside, enjoying the warmth of my mopping technique.

As her skin soaked in vitamin D, my skin soaked in my "vitamin of sweat".

I pulled my eyes away from the happy hippie and back to the mop business at hand.
A mixture of delight and sadness went through my being.

It would seem that the Lord didn't let me go to the University of Oregon for a reason. (McMinamins calls out to me. The streets of Eugene!!)

Ahh well. Granola is not fully compatible with my worldview anyhow.

And yet, I am still delighted to see such familiar faces in Ohio.
Makes it feel a bit more like home.

Glad I had the opportunity to see such a stylish, happily recycling, hippie girl.

(Maybe I can join their ranks...with dreads added...if I don't get a teaching job...)