I don't know if you are familiar with the late 80's television series "Cheers", but in the final episode of the series there is a scene that dramatizes a "last look" perfectly. The show protagonist,Sam Malone, turns out the lights to his beloved bar and proceeds to walk away from a place where an abundance of memories and laughs took place throughout the show. As the lights dim and he strolls into the distance,cheesy music plays and as you watch your eyes begin to tear up as episode flashbacks appear into your mind. I felt as though I had a "Sam Malone" moment today. Well,I am not ashamed to admit it was equally as dramatic in my head. I just needed some background music as I locked the door of Firefly Studio (a local paint-your-own-pottery studio and my job of nearly 4 years) for the last time today.
Dramatic parting from this store was not in any way due to a quirky delusional and emotionally unstable state,as it may seem.I promise I am not sitting here with a pint of Haagan Daas ice cream having a nice snotty cry. The parting was just sentimental due to the incredible spirit that the store has always offered. Also, due to the metamorphosis it has done on every employee who has encountered it. I have always been one to wear my heart on my sleeve, and therefore I am not timid to admit I have transformed through the love and community of Firefly Studio. It has been more than a store to all, but a friend.
As I took my "last look" at the store, I couldn't help but think of the first day I walked into the store to fill out an application when I was about sixteen years old. It's funny how looking at something for the last time (as you know it) can bring back a stream of memories you did not even know you had. As a young high school student I entered the Firefly boundaries as nothing but a little girl struggling to discover her identity while entering the threshold of adulthood. But unlike any other store, Firefly was a place where every high school age employee could leave any doubts about life behind and just be ourselves for a little while at work.
Being the "new kid" on the very first day of your very first job probably was not a relaxing experience for anyone. My first day on the job at Firefly was honestly nerve wrecking. Despite the fun atmosphere I was terrified and insecure. My head flooded with all of the things that could potentially go wrong. "I could drop paint pallet tiles and have them shatter on the floor. I could answer the phone and freeze because I don't know what to say. Or worst of all- everyone at work could hate me- (Including my boss)". These were my fearful thoughts on that sunny April day. But,as I was on-the-job-training that afternoon, I could not help but notice that the girl who was training me had a sense of self that seemed to give a heartbeat to the room. She seemed to have a light about her that shined so brightly it almost intimidated me. I could have only hoped to one day wear confidence so beautifully.I could never imagine being so comfortable at work. I didn't know it yet, but over the course of the next few years I would learn to be a confident girl in those very walls. I would experience growth that would allow me to eventually contribute to the fervent heartbeat of that business.
I think my fellow Firefly Studio employees would agree that many "firsts" in their lives happen either within the store or with each other. I know I experienced many firsts there.
I was picked up for my very first date in the Firefly parking lot. I was given advice for my first date that same day while working. I gushed over my date with my employee friends the next day. I learned to appreciate art in a new and exciting way. I met people who were different from me and had different beliefs. I cried in the back room when my heart was broken. I tried alcohol for the first time in the shopping center parking lot, too (but we'll momentarily disregard the fact that it was completely illegal ). I had work crushes. I witnessed countless awkward situations that now make wonderful stories. I laughed so hard one day I literally keeled over in stomach pain. Sometimes I ached with pain and confusion, but didn't have to hide it from anyone. My boss gave me a key to the store when she thought I had earned it. My boss became my friend. I felt a part of something. I felt alive. I felt important. These were all "firsts" that gave me space to grow. Grow on my own.
The nostalgia of Firefly looked a little something like this:
The smell of the purple Fabuloso cleaning agent. The stuff smelled like a freaking field of violets and had a way of angering every mother of an infant that walked through the store doors. "The smell is too strong, you need to quit spraying toxins", they would say. (We always felt awkward about that, but they were probably right. The cleaning agent is changed now to something more organic. But it probably doesn't smell as good. oh well. Safety first.).
Pandora Radio. Us employees went through many different musical taste phases over the years (one of them being an Owl City phase which I still do not quite understand), but we seemed to always stay strong and consistent with the Disney station.
The paint colors and their correlating numbers. "Will you grab me another bottle of #74?" This is common employee lingo at Firefly. Every bottle of paint has a specific number on the front of it depending on the color and shade. It was sometimes kind of fun feeling as though were were speaking in code in front of everyone. One day when business was slow we all stood in front of the "paint station" and decided what color we would be if we had to become one. I was always #75. Bright Orange.
Saturday Lunch. Everyone was required to work from open to close on Saturday, therefore lunch runs were a always major topic of interest. Also, Whole Foods was right across the street. So, we were all acclaimed regulars over time.
Our Store Regulars. Natural and genuine relationship building was such a core element of Firefly Studio not only between employees, but also with our customers. I will never forget the familiar faces of those who would come into the store regularly. Who shared a peice of their life with us and learned our names. The customers who would bring us homemade cookies during the holidays and the customers who would demonstate public compassion to their loved-ones.
So as I move on in life and part from the store that we have all been sculpted and renewed by, I will look back on my time there and appreciate the way in which it saved me. The way it saved me from the dark and brought me light throughout my teen years. And the way It will always continue to have heartful a place in my memory.
Love,
Jordan Leigh
