What I Found in the Pastry Case

If you’re a college student, I’m guessing you’re familiar with the pressure to land the perfect summer internship. Especially as you hit the downward slope of college (commonly known as junior and senior year), it’s ingrained that you should be setting yourself up for post-grad success. These internships, so I’ve gathered, are where you learn the art of the 9-to-5. You try on business casual and a business lifestyle at the same time.

My friends toss around terms like return offer and intern summit like we’ve all just picked up corporate dialect. As summer nears, your LinkedIn feed fills with posts from friends thanking hiring teams at companies you didn’t even know existed—companies you now feel you should’ve applied to… had you known to apply, like, six months ago. If you’re like me (“internship-less”), it’s easy to feel like you’re missing out on some essential crash course in becoming an adult.

That’s what I believed—until I stumbled upon a job at a local bakery near me. In a strange twist of fate, this seasonal gig as a barista has taught me lessons I think I’ll carry with me, perhaps longer than any corporate internship ever could.

So no, it’s not the Big Apple, but the lessons? Still worth writing down.

1. Meet new people and ask (good) questions.

In the age of algorithms, we live in digital echo chambers. And if we’re not careful, our friendships can become echo chambers too. We naturally gravitate toward people who think like us, which isn’t inherently bad—but it can lead to stasis.

At the bakery, I’ve met people I’d never have crossed paths with otherwise. Some are college students like me. They tell me about their studies in environmental engineering up in Canada or describe the San Francisco garage where their band practices. Others are full-time bakers who helped me stretch my high-school-level Spanish, or the business owner herself, an immigrant from China who expects nothing short of excellence, even from the cashier.

Now, one of my coworkers sends me book recommendations. A customer once even handed me the novel he’d just finished after learning I studied literature.

My mom always said people love to talk about themselves, and she’s right. So, know how to ask (good) questions. I say “good” in parentheses because we often fear asking the wrong thing, but the art of questioning is more generous than we think. This summer, the more I asked, the more I learned—not just about others, but about how to hold a meaningful conversation.

The conversations I’ve had this summer weren’t just small talk. They were small windows into lives I wouldn’t have seen otherwise.

2. When you can, play Robin Hood.

My two semesters of high school econ can’t help me explain the economy these days, but I do know one thing: things are expensive. So when the bakery raised prices due to ingredient costs, customers noticed.

That’s why, when I can, I give a little extra. Three scones for the price of one. A free loaf of bread at closing. I’ve learned my friends’ pastry preferences and now save a lemon poppy muffin for my friend Sydney, and remember what kind of bread her little brother likes.

Of course, don’t break any company policies or laws. But when it’s within your power to make someone’s day better and it costs you nothing, why not do it?

Small gestures add up.

3. Stop scrolling. Read a book.

Weekday afternoons at the bakery are slow. Sometimes, I’m alone for hours. I could scroll social media endlessly (and sometimes, I do), but I also started bringing a book in my bag. A pen too, for underlining and note-taking.

And here’s the thing: it feels good. Not “look how intellectual I am” good, but truly fulfilling in a way that social media isn’t.

I won’t lecture you on the benefits of reading—you’ve heard them all before. But the growing stack of books I’ve finished this summer has given me something scrolling never has: satisfaction. I’m learning again, even outside of school.

4. Exercise your imagination.

When I was a kid, I drew constantly. Characters for made-up stories. Dresses for imaginary runways. Printer paper scattered across the floor.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped. Maybe you did too.

Now, during quiet hours at the bakery, I doodle again. I sketch faces using the proportions my fifth-grade art teacher once taught me. There’s no pressure, no end goal—just me, letting my mind wander again.

Maybe art wasn’t your thing, but ask yourself: before your phone filled every free second, what was? Then, consider re-visiting.

These days, creativity feels rare. We’re fed so many ideas by algorithms and AI. But imagination is a muscle, and I’d forgotten how good it feels to stretch it.

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So, no, I didn’t have a shiny internship this summer. No LinkedIn announcement. No new email signature. No impressive post-summer talking point.

But I did have a summer of slowing down. Of listening. Of reading. Of connecting. Of remembering that soft skills matter too.

Success isn’t always found in an office. Sometimes, it’s found behind a pastry case.