For the consignment shop I work at, I got to plan the entire anniversary celebration at the store. I took this duty extremely seriously, and this included writing the press release, designing the post card invitations, and going out to purchase decorations. But this also included extreme crowd cheering and hype man-ing.
Such was the case when my boss announced door prize winners every half hour.
"Woo! Go Cheryl! Representing this side of the store!" I'd yell, when I was caught in the junior department, cleaning.
"She won sterling silver earrings!" my boss aded.
"You enjoy those earrings, Cheryl!" I yelled in response with a few finger points and punches to the air.
This didn't just stop there. Later on, when my boss made announcements such as, "The fashion show will start in ten minutes!" I still felt like I had to keep a festive mood going by supporting this too.
I looked up from where I crouched, tying up the full garbage bags. "Woo! Can't wait!"
Apparently, I decided that I was going to be the official hype man, and apparently, I equate cheers with fun. So by the time that my boss began her speech, thanking the sales associates and the volunteer models, I kept up my cheering and "woos" and loud applause going all the way, hoping to encourage others at least.
It was more like weird looks at my overt enthusiasm.
But it was when it came to my name that I stopped. One of my coworkers looked at me pointedly, seeing what I would do. I shrugged, clapping a little more politely and with a confused frog face on. "I can't cheer for myself," I told her, hoping the moment would soon pass.
Then I heard a few light laughs from the ladies near me. They were regular customers that I've gotten to know over the years, and we laughed at this predicament I got myself into, before they started to cheer wildly, clapping and giving me high-fives.
It was pretty awesome.
In my boss' speech, she also mentioned my move to New York, so these ladies, after their cheering, turned to ask me, excitedly, where in New York I was moving.
"Queens." I studied their faces for a moment. Those smiles and interest. "That's everyone's reaction when I tell them," I said, laughing. "They're always excited and happy when they hear about the move, then they realize that—" I deepened my voice to a dull—"it's Queens. Oh."
They laughed and lined up to give me hugs and shake my hand. "You're going to be fine!"
"You'll love it anyway!" another added.
"You'll be one train ride away from the city," one pragmatically pointed out.
That was nice of them.