Category: convos with strangers

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #18

abby mumford

i am talking to strangers…

for my final breakfast of my holiday vacation, i made sure to order from the best bagel place in the world. it’s so good i rarely eat bagels anymore because this place (in the town where i went to high school) has spoiled me. i always make sure to get my fill of bagels when i’m at my folks’ house.

guy: is that your sister?

he pointed at baby mac.

me: no, that’s my niece. *points at sister J* that’s my sister.

guy: i’ve seen you both in here from time to time.

me: oh, yes, i’m here visiting for the holidays.

guy: yeah, you were here earlier this week.

me: i was. the bagels are so good here. i can’t resist them.

after just two visits in a week, i’m practically a regular. is it any wonder why i love this place? this never happens to me in boston.

 

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convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #17

abby mumford

i am talking to strangers, why aren’t you?

last week, i dialed the number for a spa local to my parents’ house because i’m finally going to use the gift certificate my friends gave me for my birthday last year.

me: hi, i’d like to set up an appointment.

receptionist: WOOOOOOOOOOAH.

me: *thinks to self: did i say something wrong?* uh. *laughs nervously*

receptionist: you’re the first person who’s called this week to set up an appointment. everyone else has been ‘can i get a gift certificate for christmas?’

me: oh, well, i’m calling to use a spafinder gift certificate, so i’m not that different…

we discuss the details of my appointment and with that all arranged, i hang up. since my massage isn’t using the full monetary value of the gift certificate, the remaining money has to be credited to this local spa because they can’t give me “spafinder” money back. (side note: spafinder is a general gift certificate to be used at any particiating spa throughout the country. pretty nifty, huh?) it makes sense they’d have to credit me money to their spa, but i’m not in my parents’ town all that often. i don’t want the money to go to waste.

i go to close the browser i had open to the spa’s information when the word prenatal catches my attention. my brain starts churning. i had a christmas gift idea for sister J, but you know what? this might be even better.

i redial the number for the spa.

receptionist: hello?

me: hi, i just called to make an appointment, but i’d like to make an addition to it.

receptionist: is this abby?

me: oh, yes, hi. can i add an hour prenatal massage for my sister?

receptionist: you sure can.

we then discussed the particulars of sister J’s pregnancy so they could assign the proper massage therapist for her. and with that i checked off the final item of my christmas present “to buy” list, happy that i was finally using my birthday money, but more excited that i’d be able to give sister J a tiny sliver of relaxation in a time that’s been fraught with craziness.

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #16

abby mumford

i talked to a stranger?!?!

adriana had momentarily stepped away leaving me manning the beers at the bar. when things like this happen, i’ve been doing my best not to pull out the phone, but to be present in the moment, look around the bar/restaurant, and be okay with sitting there alone.

(it’s beside the point that with my scarf and gloves stuffed into my purse, it took me 15 minutes to zip it up. i was NOT about to open my bag to get out my phone only to have to put it away upon adriana’s return.)

as it turned out, this was the perfect opportunity to ask the bartender about the DELICIOUS beer i was drinking. it was called otter creek black alpine IPA.

me: *points to the tap* where’s this beer from?

girl bartender: oh, umm, *pauses* i know this, but now that you’ve asked, i’m drawing a blank.

me: no worries. i was just curious because this beer is so good. i’ve never heard of it before.

girl bartender turns to boy bartender: do you know where this is from?

boy bartender: *opens menu* vermont.

me: thanks.

adriana returned and i reported my findings. we delighted in the fact that with the beer made in new england, it meant there’s a higher likelihood of me being able to find it again.

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #15

abby mumford

strangers? talking to them? yes, sir.

i placed my to go order and headed over to the four available chairs to wait. there was a girl in one of the chairs, so i sat at the other end. this, however, placed me about 12 inches away from a couple eating their appetizers.

as easy as it would have been to join their conversation, that’s particularly rude and i don’t count that among my personality traits. i opened my magazine and commenced waiting.

*time passed*

girl employee to other girl employee: “is there an abby here?”

other girl employee to girl employee: “yes.”

i perked up and started to gather my things as they called out my name.

they handed me my dinner and there was a flurry of action behind the counter, but the girl made no move to ask me for money. before she questioned why i was lingering, i offered up my reason for doing so: “i never paid for this.”

girl: “oh wow, thanks for being so honest. most people would have just walked out without paying.”

me: “seriously?” i forked over my cash. “that’s insane.”

girl: “yeah, well. they would. they do. anyways, enjoy your food.”

me: “thanks. have a good night.”

i left pondering the possibility the girl had proposed. would most people really have left without paying? it never even occurred to me to do so, and in fact, i felt embarrassed the girl had to thank me for doing the right thing.

just then the steam from my meal rose up around me and my stomach growled. i stopped thinking and started walking faster because on a chilly winter night, a hot meal sure is better than a cold one.

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #14

abby mumford

talk to strangers? yes, indeed.

i was checking my mailbox when a neighbor walked into the apartment lobby. (this is a rare occasion because even though i have a very normal working schedule, it appears none of my neighbors do. i’ve probably run into two people the entire six months i’ve been here.) my initial reaction was to keep to myself and not bug her with any questions, but then my blog popped into my mind. i’ve been conversing with strangers (okay, fine, so what if they’re usually service people and they have to talk to me) for months now, this is it! time to take the training wheels off!

me: hi, have you lived here long? (*thinks to self* “hmm, slightly creepy opening. remedy it quick.”)

me again: i’m abby. i’ve been here since may.

her: *smiles* i’m [name redacted to protect the innocent]. i moved here in september.

me: i’m apartment [redacted].

her: i’m number [redacted].

me: oh, we must share a wall or something.

her: i bet we do. you’re very quiet. i never hear anything.

me: let me know if you do!

her: likewise.

the rest of the conversation revolved around our landlord, his response time when dealing with issues, and the things we did/didn’t like about our new places. i highly doubt my landlord or neighbor would ever read this, but just in case, it’s probably in my best interest to keep things vague.

and the real point here is that i did it!!! i initiated a conversation with a true stranger and the world didn’t end. nothing bad happened. in fact, good things came out of it. i met my neighbor. she was very nice.

and now the apartment building feels a teensy tiny wee bit more like home.