Memories of the week befoe graduation, earlier this year.

1) The one (introverted) (white) manager with tattoos suggests in the week leading up to graduation that if I have some spare time, I should re-fold the t-shirts in the entry display case, since they got messed up and I like to clean things.

2) A small table of a handful of (older) (white) people are in and the lady says that it's her 95th birthday and she wants wine, so I'm like, "Are you getting a bottle?", and she's like "Oh no, not that much!", so when they leave I tell them that even if they're not painting the town red tonight, I hope that they at least manage to paint it a light pink.

The importance of some memories.

All these months later after his academic exchange here, like more than half a year later, the one (worked-out) (STEM) (Brazilian) still has this picture up on his WhatsApp, where it's him striding down a snowy sidewalk, from a photoshoot that he called me in for after a snowstorm.