"You need to wake up the tea." My friend and I watch as the store-clerk shifts different cups of oolong between his hands, careful not to spill any scalding water over their brim. "Never just poor and drink. Rinse the leaves first."
He tells us more about the tea, about the conferences he's been to and the mountains where these herbs are gathered. I can't help but sit there, just a little more than shocked and enthralled by his stories. "How'd you end up here?" I ask, perhaps a bit rudely. It's a blunt question that almost sounds accusatory, and I don't intend for it to be like that. I'm just 23 and caught in my own crossroads, wondering how someone can find such a career as a tea-enthusiast. He looks startled for a second. I don't blame him. But then he shrugs his shoulders and laughs. "I don't know exactly...life just fell out this way."
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