“I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good ol’ days before you’ve actually left them.” — Andy Bernard, The Office
I’m moving out of the area in a little over a month, and it’s actually way more bittersweet than I had anticipated.
When I moved back to my hometown in 2019, I was depressed in part because I didn’t want to be there … like at all. I vowed to myself that I’d treat my stint here like a military tour and spend three years here before moving to another big city of my choice. In 2022, I started a new job that required me to be onsite 30% of the month, so I decided that I’d make the most of it for as long as I needed to and move on when I could.
Trying to make the most of it sent me into another form of depression. I’d found more things to do, but still didn’t feel like I fit in. I wasn’t really close to many of my local childhood friends at this point, but struggled to find new connections. I shot platonic shots, but missed much more often than I hit.
But at some point last year, it felt like things had finally come together for me. Although it didn’t look quite how I’d originally envisioned, it was authentic to my journey and who I’d become. I’d become a regular at restaurants and got treated like a king when I visited. I became cool with the bartenders and got free drinks. I’d see people while out who reminded me of the different phases I went through since I’d been here — sometimes I’d run into someone who used my hair product or someone who I trained BJJ with back in 2022 or who I train Muay Thai with now.
I also started working part time at a bar in fall 2023 and made connections with customers and staff alike. I’d really grown to appreciate my coworkers and we already talk about how we’re going to miss each other. During a recent shift, one of my coworkers offered me a snaquiri (think shot-sized daiquiri) after we closed, which is our bar staff’s typical shift drink of choice. Sometimes I take them up on it, but sometimes I’m just not in the mood.
On this evening in particular, I could’ve done without it, but while searching within for reasons to take the drink or not, it dawned on me that this was probably my last time ever closing with this coworker. I dove a bit deeper to really assess the situation.
Out of at least … let’s say 100 shifts, I had probably taken my coworkers up on at least half of the offers for shift drinks. But at some point during those 50+ drinks, I had accepted more offers than I would have the opportunity to accept ever again, and as of this shift, I only had three more opportunities.
Naturally I took him up on the snaquiri. While driving home, I started passively making a list in my head of things that I wanted to do for the last time as a local, and since then I’ve checked off a few.
What I’ve noticed so far is that not all last times are created equal. I’ve done one or two “final” food experiences, and for the most part, those meals did what I wanted them to do, so those expectations were met.
However, some experiences simply can’t be replicated. Sometimes you’re just in the right place in the right time with the right people in a moment that wasn’t entirely planned and couldn’t be planned again even if you tried, and you’re just left with that core memory.
I genuinely believe that I did a good job overall of taking advantage of those experiences during my time here. There are way less moments that I feel necessary to relive here than I did leaving the DMV area. But it serves as a sobering reminder from a few different angles.
For one, it reminds me to be more cognizant of when I’m living in the “good ol days.” I think about times when I’ve had cool coworkers that made coming in to work every day easier, then people gradually find new jobs, and suddenly it’s harder to come in. Or when you become a regular at a restaurant, then the staff you got cool with find new jobs, then you have to rebuild your restaurant clout. Or when the people you’re used to hooping with start to fizzle out.
But it also level sets me for the next adventure. As sad as I will be to leave, I’m looking forward to creating new experiences in places I haven’t been with people I haven’t met yet — and may never even see again after we’ve crossed paths.
