My Real-Life "Sparkly Moment"

So today, I had what I like to call a “sparkly moment.” What is that, you ask? A sparkly moment is one of those that don’t happen very often, but when it does, it’s good enough for a movie. You know, like one of those scenes where the feel-good music is playing, the guy gets the girl, and everyone is laughing, sometimes in slow motion. You can find the majority of them in romantic comedies, super hero love scenes, and in pretty much any scene with Amy Adams (Enchanted, anyone?).

Movies are practically spilling over with these sparkly moments. As often as we see them in cinema, you would think we would see them often in our everyday lives. How disappointing, then, to leave the theatre and return to the commonplace world of school, work, homework (more school), and all-around stress. Heck, in real life, I’m lucky to make it out of the house with a bowl of Fruit Loops, let alone make it through the day with some amazingly happy slow-motion moment.

Which is why today was so amazing. Let me start from the beginning:

Some people hate their jobs. While my job can get a little slow at times, I am one of the lucky ones. I love my job, primarily because of the awesome people I get to interact with on a daily basis. You see, I work as a receptionist at a senior living community. Can anyone say awesome elderly people? HECK YES!!! I love them, I really do.

Well, one of the residents there, I’ll call him Charles, is especially awesome. He is always coming up to me and asking me the usual receptionist questions (“What time is dinner?” “Did I miss the scenic bus ride?” “Will you go out with me?” just kidding…). I get a lot of repeat questions, because he is in the early stages of Alzheimer’s- loathe that disease- but I love him anyway. Today he was hanging around my desk as usual, when a man came past the desk, dressed in black slacks and a blue collared shirt; Charles mistook him for the bus driver.

“Excuse me, sir,” asked Charles, “Is the bus leaving now? Can I go on it?”

The man in blue looked pleasantly confused. In Charles’ defense, the outfit totally could’ve passed as a uniform.

“Charles,” I said over my desk, “He’s just here to visit; the bus doesn’t leave for another two hours. But your name is on the list, so you won’t miss it.”

He didn’t appear to hear what I said, and was now gripping Blue’s arm in a friendly, “please escort me out to the bus” way. I walked over to talk to him.

“Charles, the bus doesn’t leave for another two hours,” I repeated. “This man is just visiting.”

“He’s not the bus driver?”

“No.”

“He sure is a nice guy, though. I like him.”

“Yes, I do too.”

(To Blue)”Hey, you’re sure nice. You should be in a movie or something. Can you sing?” Blue chuckled a bit.

“Say…something like ‘Old Man River?’” From there, Charles began to sing the lines to “Old Man River.” Best song ever (look it up here, watch until 3:36). But it gets better.

Cue totally spontaneous sparkly moment: As he sang, Charles took my hands and began to dance a small waltz with me, there in the lobby. Blue stood and watched, smiling, while I hummed along. Charles’ voice was actually quite good. There I was, waltzing with an absolutely charming man, who was singing one of my favorite songs of all time to me, without care of who was watching. It was fabulous. It ended all too soon. Charles finished his song, the man in blue left, and I returned to my seat behind the desk. But the grin I wore didn’t leave. Charles did something totally crazy- he made movie magic a reality, a ray of sunshine in my otherwise commonplace day. Now that’s a friend.