I wouldn’t consider myself a particularly negative person. That’s an awful attribute.

But no matter how hard I try to showcase the sunshine and rainbows of my character, people only see the grayness that overcasts my positivity. It’s frustrating really. Why can’t anyone see that I’m such a lovable beam of sunshine? Though I must say, I do hate the sun. It grossly bakes my flesh.

To prove myself to all the haters that I do embody all the fuzziness of an optimist, I’ve made myself an activities list to choose from each day, filled with just the most joyous adventures. Gliding down my finger to select the lucky excursion of the day, I landed with “buying a coffee at the local coffee shop and greet the barista with a bright and pearly smile. There’s no heart my smile can’t melt, it’s basically currency.

So I waddled my way as the duck did to the lemonade stand to my favorite local coffee shop: Sigh & Sip. Aside from the tacky decors, obnoxious crowd, stale pastries, and overpriced drinks, it’s a great place.

There’s nothing you’d rather do than sigh and sip when you get your drinks after a grueling long wait.

And as expected, the line was out the door. I briefly rolled my eyes and stood behind a dude dressed in California casuals and potent cologne. After finishing of the classic conversation about the weather with the family in front of him, which by the way, was an annoyingly sunny day with not a cloud in sight, he turned to me as all extroverts that lack self-awareness do, which is all of them.

“How’s it going?” he asked, with the forty-five degree head tilt and smoothly slurred vowels.

“As good as this weather,” I shrugged with an eyebrow raised, a response that could conveniently be interpreted differently as needed.

“I know! It’s amazing out here today, wish it could be like this everyday!”

What was I supposed to say? “Oh my gosh me, too! I’d love to bake in the sun until I turn into human jerky and parch the water sources until we live in an eternal drought, basking in the filth we can no longer wash away. Oh yeah, and photosynthesis would be gone too, can’t wait till the plants too experience some scarcity in their agriculture economy, fair to all living things to struggle to make a living. Can’t imagine a brighter future!” I don’t think he’d take that reponse super well.

So as a normal person would respond, I said: “I know it’s as lovely as a snow storm that traps us inside all day with a cup of scorching hot chocolate to sniff!”

“Sniff?” I see what he’s doing, repeating the last word of my response as a question to keep me talking, a lazy technique to keep the conversation going.

“Yeah,” I explained, “cause … calories.”

“I’m guessing you’re not getting a hot cocoa or mocha then,” he observed, entertained by my response.

“Nah, I’m getting a frappe, extra whipped cream and sprinkles,” landing at my widest most genuine grin at sprinkles. I do love sprinkles.

He was confused: “I didn’t know this place is called Sigh and Sniff…”

“No, you can’t really smell anything frozen, it’s more for the aesthetics,” no sad and gloomy person’s gonna voluntarily purchase a cup of unicorn, thus proving I am indeed a dainty little ray of positivity.

“Well, are you gonna drink it?” He bounced back.

I could smell his judgement at this turn. Categorizing me with all the “influencers” abundant back at his hometown.

Somehow amused by his condemnation, I played into it, “No, I’m just gonna hold it. Snap a few pics and post. How else would I fish for a husband swimming in cryptocurrency?”

A pause. Then a wash of disgust grew its tide over his face. Ah, it’s a good day.

Knowing our conversation’s over, I smiled at him and looked down to check my phone, flipping through my homepage to pretend to be busy.

Apparently my signal of withdrawal wasn’t obvious enough. With a change of tone, he continued, “well, how are your success rates?”

Oh, he’s playing with me. I like myself a game, “as good as you’d expect.”

“Well, I don’t know what to expect, I’m not too familiar with your industry.”

“I’ll say this, I haven’t made enough profit to write off this coffee purchase. It’s out of pocket which is unfortunate,” then I remembered that with anything unfortunate I have to come up with two bright sides to outweigh the negative, “but I think I stimulate the economy buying $8 coffees, sometimes tipping them too because I love burning my money. I also enjoy the activity of grabbing a coffee unlike millionaires who refuse get coffee anywhere except home.”

I pulled in closer and scrunched my face smiling, “I’m not lame like that.”

“Those ‘millionaires’,” he finger quoted, “are your prospective clients, maybe your marketing strategy’s a bit off considering they very much oppose your purchasing habits.”

He’s got a point. So I nodded with approval, “you know I never thought about it that way.”

He cracked a smile and decided to break character, “that was a much more interesting conversation than the weather.”

Another valid point.

“I’m glad I entertained you more than the weather app,” I responded proudly.

“No, you’re more like the news app, a crossbred of fiction and truth.”

“Okay, political stance,” I backed off, what do guys have with expressing political views as if it comes off as intelligence rather than arrogance.

He smiled again. Why? I don’t know.

With an odd and squinty smile, he lowered his voice, “I never met anyone like you before.”

“You should be grateful for that.”

I pointed him to turn around since it was his turn to order. He ordered a latte and a frappe. Then he turned to me again, “I got you covered, extra sprinkles.”

Okay heartbeat, chill. I don’t like this feeling, kind of hard to swallow and immobile. I said stiffly, “Thanks.”

I waited with him at the counter and retrieved my beverage made of what looks like colorful quick sand. I sighed, then sipped.

“How is it?” He asked.

I shrugged, “taste like unicorn barf,” rubbing my thumb against the phone number he wrote on my cup.

And with that, I failed at today’s mission. I never got to greet the barista with my pearly smile. I broke the streak of my positivity, or more accurately, he broke my streak. What a jerk.

But I swear I’m a positive person, sweet and magnetic, just that the world is against me sometimes… well, most of the time.