Honda: day seven

Today I…

…got up relatively on time and called the coffee shop I was going to try to interview the owner of. I was nervous to call, because, “Hey, uh, can I interview you or your general manager for a stupid paper?” is kind of weird to ask on the phone. The guy was really rude to me, and said no— I didn’t mind that he said no, it was just the way he said it.

…went into town anyway, to my favorite pub, and, still uncomfortable asking for an interview, asked the hostess if the owner (who I know sort of peripherally, and who I find intimidating but also really cool) was there. She brought me outside, where Deb, the owner, was waiting on some wax coating thing to dry. She was super warm and open and HAPPY to give me an interview, and my nerves went away almost immediately. She answered all the questions candidly and cheerfully. It was totally great, and I was glad I’d steeled myself and made myself go in. I call that a HUGE confidence bonus. 

…got Chizzy a giant as fuck bin and a giant as fuck water bottle and snuck the whole of the Taj Mahal of bins back into the dorms. It was sweaty fucking work.