Because I believe that other humans are the most interesting and valuable thing in the world. This will be a running log of mildly interesting casual encounters with strangers.
Loneliness and the Culinary Arts (October 13th, 2023)
There’s a sense of camaraderie among those who shop at the bargain bin of the grocery store. As I grabbed a five dollar tray of chicken breast, a middle-aged woman in scrubs asked “what are you finna cook?” in a Georgia drawl. “I’m making a stir fry,” I replied. “What are you going to make?” She was not sure what she would make, or whether she would even cook. She explained that she lived by herself and its hard to want to cook when you’re on your own. She asked, as if seeking some solidarity in her loneliness, if I was cooking for myself. I told her I was married. “That’s nice. It’s hard being alone but that’s just how life goes sometimes.” Her matter-of-fact manner was striking to me. She merely shrugged at this devastating bargain bin confession. I struggled to figure out how to respond before offering a soulless “take care” as I headed away from the melancholy bargain bin to the protection of the less sentimental produce section.
A Kroger Valentine’s Day (February 14th, 2023)
The Kroger parking lot is packed. It’s 5:30 PM on Valentine’s Day and people from all walks of life are cycling through Kroger’s to buy their romantic interests gifts. There were five men (teenagers and senior citizens alike) in line for self-checkout holding a variety of flowers. The men acknowledged their brotherhood with a tacit head nod. I walked out carrying a bouquet and an old woman recognized my situation with a massive smile. She threw her head back with satisfaction. I wonder what was going through her mind; it felt like I transported her back to her youth when love was fresh. A day so tainted by Hallmark and commercialism can still facilitate a deep connection within a commumity; amidst the hustle and bustle at the end of an ordinary 9 to 5, neighbors come together with a common culture coursing through their American veins. I literally spoke to no one, it took five minutes, and felt a strong sense of belonging with my countrymen.
Sabotage on the T-Bar (January 13th, 2023)
The Horseshoe Bowl T-Bar provides access to the bowls at the top of Breckenridge Ski Resort. It is different from a chairlift; the passenger is towed up the mountain by a “T” shaped bar attached to an overhead cable. This uncommon lift poses many challenges to its would-be riders; I estimated 20% of passengers fell off before reaching the top (number is skewed by a high failure rate for snowboarders).
Signs posted by the line demand skiers pair up for safety reasons. I was riding as a single and merged with another skier, some middle-aged man from Denver.
“It takes a lot of trust to ride the T-Bar with a stranger,” I mentioned. He chuckled. We made occasional small talk.
Everything started off smoothly. Halfway up, one of the skiers a few T-Bars ahead of us fell off.
“It’s a real shame to make it this far and fall off,” I pointed out. He ignored me.
We can see the end of the lift. It’s maybe 40 meters ahead. I started to ask him which way he was exiting off the lift, when mid-sentence my skis crossed and I fell over. I had a firm grip on the T-Bar and pulled it to the ground with me. I yanked my fellow passenger to the ground with me. He tried in vain to hold on before he was tossed to the side of the lift. Meanwhile, I was able to hold on and right myself.
“I’m sorry!” I shouted down the mountain as I rode gently to the top. I hope he didn’t think it was on purpose, although that would be a reasonable deduction.
Middle-Aged Woman on a Plane (December 21st, 2022)
We had an empty seat between us and we didn’t speak a word. While we were taxiing to takeoff, I tried in vain to remove my winter coat. If I fully extended my arms I would have punched the passenger in the aisle seat across from me, so I bent my arms but this made it hard to get off. She took pity on me and grabbed a hold of my jacket cuff, allowing me to slip one arm out. I smiled as if to say thank you and we avoided eye contact the remainder of the flight.
Grandmother on a Plane (December 17th, 2022)
I got to my seat, gave her the obligatory head nod and soft smile, and sat down. She was teeming with nervous energy. I offered a simple “how are you?” and unleashed it all.
“Well, my taxi thought it was 4:45 PM, not AM. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. I’m a little too old to be running through the airport!”
“Well, running through the airport is kind of part of the human experience, it’s good to do every now and again. Where are you headed?”
“Portland, I was visiting a friend of mine who’s 92, a retired philosophy teacher from Colorado College. My husband is having heart surgery on Tuesday. He’s never had an ounce of fat, always stayed physically fit, and when he’s 60 years old he needs his first heart surgery. This will be his fourth.”
“It doesn’t exactly motivate you to make the healthy choices when luck has such a role in your health.”
Our takeoff restores silence. At the end of the flight, she thanked me. “I’m not usually one to talk on a plane, but I just had such a crazy morning I was all wound up. Thank you for listening to me.”