'Adopted' by a Leo

Gather —round, my cubs. I??d like to gab about a particular Leo who has beamed into my life recently. :-)

So, during a temporary job this past holiday season, I met some really fun and likeable folks, with whom I built rapport and survived the overnight shift. Amongst those folks was one person in particular who managed to worm his way into my heart.

As I recall, the first time we spoke was when I walked into the backroom on my first or second night, wanting to know where I was assigned. I was a bit overwhelmed by this new, noisy environment, and paced the floor for a few moments while scanning the room. As I scanned the room, I made eye contact with a friendly-looking young man, who stopped where he was, walked over to me, smiled, and said something like, "Hey, if you have questions about anything, just ask me." I smiled back and thanked him, while also thinking, "This guy's a bit goofy-looking.":-p (Think: Ray Romano, but taller, lankier, and with reddish-brown hair). I was pleasantly surprised to realize that this guy sat at the same table as me during break time--"the" table, designated for what I affectionately called my "quirky" group of work peeps.

Lunch breaks were those times where I was most able to casually observe his personality and interaction with other co-workers. I quickly noticed that Mr. Leo was gentlemanly and paternal with me and other co-workers, quite talkative and —sunny??, and willing to goof off and make a fool of himself to get a laugh. I also quickly noticed that he tended to be rather bossy and self-centered.

Although I was mostly my usual quiet, calm, observant self, Mr. Leo often paid a lot of attention to me. Every night that we worked the same shift, he would ask how my night was coming along, ask my opinion of certain goings-on, or even approach me in the kitchen and shyly begin a random conversation about the food I was preparing (usually a PB&J or Nutella sandwich—nothing exotic, hehe).

Even when he was talking to someone else at our table, Mr. Leo would often look at me or direct his responses to me, especially if it was a tidbit of personal information. In response, I would usually smile sweetly and nod. :-) I often noticed him staring at me, and I sometimes could see him in my peripheral vision, gazing intently as I spoke to someone else.

(Cont'd...)

The man was so open and honest that I barely had to ask questions in order to know more about him. He shared his age and birthday (and thus, I discovered his sign); the fact that he's Italian, despite any appearance otherwise; his mother??s beef stew (visually unappealing, to be honest) and other family recipes, and, further along in conversation, the fact that his dear daddy had died of cancer 8 years ago??_ I had grown fond of his geeky-but-gregarious personality; but, the more serious moments of conversation, where he briefly showed vulnerability or —softness??, really appealed to me.

The one time that I heard him "roar" about anything was when we were sitting at the table, talking about my tasks for the night. Some of the noisier table-mates were drowning out my voice, and suddenly, Mr. Leo snapped at them: "SHUT UP!! I can't hear what she's saying!" Everyone looked at him, hushed, and I was a bit startled by the outburst. Nonetheless, he quickly turned his attention back to me with a calm manner, and we continued talking.

We shared food, conversation, compliments, work frustrations, etc. There was a sort of connection that's difficult to put into words, but you know it when you feel it: an unspoken, mutual sense of respect, understanding, admiration, loyalty. I was protective of him, and he was protective of me.

Mr. Leo was later assigned to a different area of the store, where he was the unofficial leader of the —pulls?? and backstock. He mentioned to us that he often had to stay late to finish everything, especially when everyone disappeared at the end of their shift. One night, when I was sent over to help finish the pulls, I noticed just how much there was to be done. After a few other co-workers and I finally finished the pulls, I went to the backstock area to ask Mr. Leo if he wanted help with the backstock. He seemed surprised, asked if I was on a time limit, and when I said I would stay as long as necessary to finish everything, his mood seemed to lighten.

We worked alone in the room, chatting about our shared musical interests before fully concentrating on the task at hand. We knocked out the backstock. Mr. Leo seemed very appreciative, stumbled for a moment to find words, and then said, —Do you want a ride anywhere? To the bus station, maybe— I politely declined on that morning, but accepted on later occasions, where we had about 10 minutes to have rapid-fire talks about anything and everything under the sun...

In the last two weeks of the seasonal job, I was uncertain of whether I would be offered a regular job. Not wanting to lose contact with Mr. Leo, I entertained the idea of giving him a card to say —thanks for being great!??, and to keep in touch. Around the last few days of the seasonal contract, there was a lively discussion about how the seasonal workers had simply disappeared from the upcoming schedule, rather than being told through letter or direct correspondence of the future status of employment. Mr. Leo asked—demanded, almost—to know whether we had heard any news yet, and seemed more upset than us about the obvious lack of courtesy, and the chance of sudden end.

On my second-to-last day, I passed a hand-decorated envelope to Mr. Leo on my way to the breakroom for the first break of the night. His eyes brightened, and he asked, —What's this for—? I pretended not to hear him, and continued on my way. :-p Later on, when we happened to pass each other again, he gushed, —You??re so—you have such a sweet heart! ??_ I didn't look at the card yet, though.?? Oh.

I got a ride with Mr. Leo that morning, and while chatting away, he said that he read the card, thanked me, and said, —Hopefully we??ll continue to see each other at work! I mean, they haven't confirmed anything yet, so maybe they??ll offer you a regular position.?? We continued another rapid-fire discussion, which somehow led onto several different topics that proved to be emotionally-stressful for me. We ended up talking briefly about my parents divorce, and its strong impact on my life. He related, in a way, because of how difficult it had been to cope after his father died. We reassured each other, but apparently it was a bit too stressful for me. As Mr. Leo continued to chat and tried to lighten the situation, I turned to the window and said stoically, —Well??_ I'm feeling a bit emotional now.?? He softened his tone and said, —Oh??_ I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Mr. Leo asked me several questions related to my current situation, half-demanding and half-concerned, to which I replied with lessening stoicism. In my peripheral vision, I saw him grip the steering wheel. A moment later, he blurted, —I will help you. Whatever you need, just tell me, and I??ll help you out.?? I thanked him for offering to help, and we made sure to save each other??s phone number.

(Cont'd...)

The last shift of my seasonal position was rushed, and I still hadn't received confirmation by the end of the shift. I resolved to call later that day and talk to one of the executive team leaders directly. Mr. Leo finished on time, and I waited to leave with him. During most of the ride, he seemed to be thinking out loud, rationalizing and saying, —Well, who knows? Maybe there's still a chance. You worked in the backroom and the sales floor, right? Yeah, so maybe they will offer you a position.?? Moments later, he said, —Yeah, I'm sure that they??ll offer you a position. They??ve got to offer you a position. Why wouldn't they— He was a bit less talkative, but still offered advice and words of encouragement.

By the time we reached the usual parking space near the subway stop, we were both uneasy. After more words of encouragement, we hugged each other tightly, and Mr. Leo said, —I'm going to miss you. Well, wait, I shouldn't say it like that. There's a chance that you??ll still work there, and we can see each other outside of work anyway.?? I replied, —That's right. We can still see each other and hang out, of course. We just won't have the convenience of working the same shift and happening to be in the same place at the same time!?? We agreed that, in any case, we would keep in touch. The moment came where I had to step out of the car and walk to my destination. With well wishes and a —See ya later??, I walked briskly in the chill morning air. As I descended toward the subway, I felt a faint sensation of having been bitten, every so gently...

Later in the day, I made a phone call and finally received the direct correspondence that I had been seeking from my employer. No offer of a regular job, but an apology for delay in correspondence, and an offer to re-apply during the next hiring period in approximately two months. The next day, while preparing to leave town for several days, I texted an update to Mr. Leo: no job offer, no more working together (at least, not for many weeks).

(Cont'd...)

The morning of my departure, I received a long response. He shared my disappointment, but remained upbeat nonetheless, telling me that he would keep an eye out for job openings. —We will keep in touch. Until later??_?? I followed up with him while riding the bus, thanked him, mentioned that I was looking forward to having a few days to get away and ruminate, and told him: —Any crises or whatever happens in your life??_ I??ve got your back. My pledge.?? He responded with more words of encouragement, and added: —Life is a ride, and you seem to have the strength to get through it.??

The past week or so has been relaxing, and I??ve certainly been ruminating about several aspects of my life... I feel re-energized, ready to return to the city, optimistic about this man who I??ve grown to trust and —claim?? for my circle of friends. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship... We??ll see how it goes. :-)

Thanks for reading my novella! :-p

@ Seraph: Aw, thanks. Glad to share. :-)

@ Jynja: Hehe, you're welcome! Us bulls (and bullettes) take friendship seriously, and have a similar idea of friendship. If and when I choose to allow someone into my exclusive "circle" of friends, it's a very special thing. Loyalty, for life.

@ Ninjafish: Yeah, I wrote a helluva lot more than I had first expected to! I'm just very appreciative of this goofy chatterbox appearing in my life. :-p

@ Justsomeguy: Glad to give you something nice to read before starting your shift. 😉 As for the Taurus and Leo comment--hmm, yeah, in my general experience with Leo people, it's been either "love" or "hate". I'm cautiously optimistic that there won't be *too* much drama, haha!


Thanks for the comments. Promise to be my typical reticent self in future posts. 0:-)

🙂

Thank you for opening up and sharing.