I was 19 years old when I started my side job as a Starbucks barista and boy, was I in way over my head. Having recently transitioned from a local Mom-and-Pop coffee shop, I was having to re-train myself on everything coffee and more. For lack of better words, it sucked.

My first two months of work as a barista was easily one of the most stressful work situations I have yet to find myself in. It was fast paced, demanding and forced a certain external factor that I wasn't always comfortable with. Regardless of this, I tried to remain positive. My positivity, however, was usually short lived and I would often excuse myself to my car on lunch breaks just to have a good cry. Needless to say, I eventually fell into a routine and the stress began to wither.

I'm now a year and a half into my employment with Starbucks and as of four months ago, I left my first team of baristas behind and transferred to a new store due to my acceptance at Florida State University. The stress of a new store definitely had it's grip on me for the first few weeks but like before, I eventually fell into a routine and gained some great regulars of my own.

For those of you who don't work in the customer service industry, I cannot emphasize just how much customer relationships are valued. I have regulars who can turn a crappy morning shift into a great one within a 10 second interaction as I hand off their grande iced vanilla latte.

Mr. Bill was my very first regular. Granted, he had already been a regular YEARS before I started working at my initial place of hire but his order was the first that I had ever memorized and that has always stuck with me. He was a kind, older gentlemen and his presence was always made known in the store as he was loved by everyone.

To say that he was apart of our 'barista family' would be an understatement. Mr. Bill was our friend. He knew all of our names, tipped well and always praised us for the work that we did. My Starbucks employment hasn't been easy, but if I'm giving credit where it's due, Mr. Bill definitely deserves a part of it.

The first time I ever met him, I was coming in from my lunch break. He stopped me and asked for my name as he had never seen me before.

"Ally, sir. Thank you for asking."

Mr. Bill nodded, "Welcome aboard, Ally. You're going to do great!"

For some reason, this made my eyes well up.

"I'm trying, sir. It's hard work and if I'm being honest, I don't feel totally cut out for it."

"Nonsense, Ally! I'll look out for you."

He left a $10.00 tip in our jar that morning and every morning after that, he would go out of his way to say hello and acknowledge how great his drink was if I made it. He did this for everyone; he was simply a genuine spirit.

The morning of September 21st, I received word that Mr. Bill had passed away and it hit me harder than I ever could've expected. Ironically enough, I was drinking a flat white when I found out (one of Mr. Bill's drinks of choice) and I broke down.

Every barista needs a Mr. Bill. Scratch that. We all need a Mr. Bill. The world may seem bleak at times but at least we have the ability to be kind and thoughtful. If there's anything to take away from this article, it should be the value in authentic social interactions.

All too often, I think we find ourselves in a hurry or in a bad mood and we unknowingly disregard our interactions with others. Human connection is vital. We all want to feel like someone cares about us almost as much as we want to be validated in the work that we do.

Next time you're at Starbucks, stop and say "hello" to your barista before just rattling off your order. Next time you go to the grocery store, stop and make polite conversation with one of your grocery baggers. A single moment can have a lasting impact on someone and I strongly urge you to make all of them count.

Mr. Bill, I only knew you for a short while but I want to take this moment to thank you for all that you did, as well as the person that you were. You gave me confidence in a job that I once thought was too much and you never failed to bring a smile to my face.

This morning, I made a venti flat white, no shots wasted in your honor and left it on the handoff counter for the remainder of my shift. Thank you for teaching me the value of a moment, Mr. Bill.

Your impact is ever lasting.