Sometimes Strangers Talk to Me

One summer, a year or so after I graduated college, I spent a day wandering around downtown Boston on my own. During that excursion, two or three different groups asked me for directions or to take their picture. I happily obliged, a bit surprised to be approached so often.

Unaware at the time, being approached by strangers was to become a regular part of my life. It's weird, especially when juxtaposed to the fact that my presence also makes other people feel uncomfortable, particularly when I am traveling alone. Fortunately, positive responses are more common. Mostly it's just simple requests for directions or perhaps a question about the weather. What amuses me most is how often I know the answer, even when I am in a new-to-me location.

For example, I once went to a conference in Kansas City. During breaks, I would be standing with group when someone would ask me if I knew where to find a Starbucks. Or a Subway. Or their hotel. Or whatever else they needed to know. Even though it was my first visit to KC and this conference, I was able to help them out. This is partly because I'd chosen to walk between the hotel and conference center instead of using the provided shuttles. This gave me time to soak in the surroundings.

After the first person stopped me, I mentioned to the others in the group that this often happens. I don't think they really believed me until they witnessed the phenomenon for themselves.

Other times, people just need to talk. This past Wednesday, I was walking back to the house when a car pulled up to me. Windows down, the woman called out to me. She then proceeded to tell me that she'd just come from the doctor, where she'd learned that her cancer is now Stage IV and untreatable. She'd decided to get a second opinion, but "didn't want to waste no time on prayin' and worryin' because that'll just shorten whatever time [she] has left."

Then, with a puff on her cigarette, she drove off. I stood in the street for a while wondering what had just happened.

Later that day, I met up with a friend for a run in the park. Hanging out after we were done, I told him about my encounter with the lady in the car. He said he'd never heard of anything like that. I told that while that situation was more dramatic than most, strangers tend to talk to me. I could tell that while he didn't think I was lying, he didn't really believe me.

While we were talking, an older man of questionable mental health was warning visitors to stay away from some nearby rocks, because there was a mommy and daddy snake protecting all their baby snakes. We assured him that we are both snake smart and continued our conversation.

A few minutes later, having apparently run out of folks to warn, the man interrupted us and asked me, "Do you think?"

Confused about what he was aiming for, I said, "Excuse me?"

"It's a joke. Just answer the question. Do you think?"

"Um, yes?"

"Good. Do you dream?"

"Yes?"

"Do you breathe?"

"Yes?"

"Have you ever seen a falling star?"

"Uh, I've seen meteorites."

"Did you see where it landed?"

"They all burned up before they landed."

"Oh no no no. Come on. It's a joke. Do you think?"

At this point my friend intervened, telling him that we needed to go. The man then tried to explain to joke to my friend, but it never did make any sense. We eventually extricated ourselves and headed to the parking lot.

Once we were clear, I looked at my friend and said, "See! it happens all the time."

He wisely just laughed.

Roommates

Living with other people is...interesting. You all know this. Whether it be a family member, friend, or random dorm assignment, each of you has numerous stories about the people who share your living space.

I am very fortunate in my current roommate. She is as sweet as can be and I enjoy spending time with her. I have felt very at home in her house and grateful for my furnished room. This living situation is definitely a Craig's List win.

She speaks in essays. Having a strong poetry and literary background, she is very articulate, making good use of flavorful adjectives. I enjoy listening to her, but I often have trouble following her logic. Being emotionally driven, she sometimes contradicts herself. More than once, while pushing back on something I said, she has made an eloquent argument that ultimately confirmed my original point. Asking questions to clarify where she disagrees only results in her becoming more adamant. I generally let it go. I see no point in arguing with someone who's agreeing with me, especially one who is a more gifted speaker than listener.

I suspect perhaps it's my emotional tone she disagrees with. Whatever the source, these "disagreements" are pretty amusing.

Her talent for speaking also extends into sleep. The first time I heard her talking in her sleep, she had a cold. After loudly coughing, I heard her mutter some gibberish. She coughed again, then muttered louder. A third coughing fit, followed by more gibberish, now angry. She was having an argument with her cough!

Another time, while reading in bed, I heard her thumping around in the bathroom. After several minutes, she called out, "Could somebody help me? I'm trapped! And I'm scared!" Confused, I went to the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar. With one finger, I pushed it opened to find her standing by the sink holding a towel. Seeing me, she told me that she was trapped and upset because her doctor didn't leave her enough claustrophobia towels. She didn't know how she was going to get out. Realizing she was asleep, I eventually convinced her that she could leave through the bathroom door. I think prior to my arrival, she'd been trying to leave through the linen closet. She was very grateful.

Despite appearing completely lucid during our conversation, she has no recollection of our conversation or the "claustrophobia towels".

She loves cats. I mean really loves cats, especially her current pet, Sugarloaf. Cuddle time with Sugarloaf is an essential part of her mental health. She often shares her philosophical ruminations about the wonderfulness of felines. I just smile. I'm glad they bring her joy.

Sugarloaf: the roommate's current cat and leader of the household.

(Side note: one of her previous cats was named "Buttershoe.")

In her late twenties and not long out of college, she is in the unhappy phase of realizing adult life isn't all it's cracked up to be. She's figuring it out though.