Category: convos with strangers

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #13

abby mumford

you shouldn’t talk to strangers. here’s why i’m going against what my mom taught me.

me: can i have a decaf, non-fat mocha?

him: you sure can. *rings in order*

me: *looks through purse for wallet*

him: how are you today?

me: *oblivious to the fact the question is directed at me*

him: *repeats question*

me: *looks behind to confirm he is talking to me*

him: *laughs* you are all *imitates my startled face*

me: i don’t know why i didn’t realize you were talking to me. i’m doing well, thanks. and you?

him: maybe we should switch that order to caffeinated?

me: valid point, but my stomach prefers the decaf.  (*thinks to self* self, did you just admit too much?)

him: have a good day.

me: you too.

and as i waited for my drink to be made, i pondered my confusion. was it the fact he asked me how i was doing after he took my order? was it my level of tiredness? why didn’t i realize he was talking to me? have you ever revealed too much information to a stranger? have you ever been a part of a conversation you didn’t realize was taking place?

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #12

abby mumford

don’t talk to strangers. here’s why i’m breaking that rule.

shocker of all things shocking, i find myself at porter square books. i hand over my book and the girl, who is set to ring me up, says “i know you’re part of our customer care program and i should know your name, but…”

me: *spells last name* *searches through purse for wallet* *looks up at the extended silence to find girl staring expectantly at me* “oh, you need my first name? is there more than one mumford in there?”

her: “there actually is.”

me: “wow.” *ponders all other mumfords she knows. the amazing mumford. mumford and sons. my immediate family members. my extended family members; none live nearby* “i’m abigail.”

her: “ah, found it. the first one.”

me: “i usually am. it’s nice until you’re the first one in everyone’s phone book and they butt dial you.”

her: “that would be annoying.”

me: “i like to tell myself i’m really popular.”

her: *smiles* *hands over receipt.*

i leave the store happy with my purchase and with my status as an almost regular, but wondering who’s out there sharing my last name. perhaps they have a first name that would trump mine thus putting them at the top of everyone’s pocket dialing lists? i must make friends with them immediately.

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #11

abby mumford

i’m conversing with strangers. here are the details why.

i know they’ve been making some changes to my local grocery store, but so far, it’d just been to the aisles on the edges: the produce, the meats, and my favorite, the breads.

after a few weekends away, i am finally in town long enough to warrant a trip to stock up on supplies and yet, when i walk in, i might as well be in a store in another state. EVERYTHING has been switched around (the candy is next to the fruit, the soda is next to the crackers, the paper towels are near the chips, i mean, huh?) and so the fastest thing i can do is walk up and down each aisle taking note of what is now where.

after an unplanned extra amount of exercise, i’m finally ready to check out.

me: there are a lot of changes around here.

lady at the register (LATR): i know. more room.

me: was a building next door bought or are you just reorganizing the space?

LATR: *rolls eyes* reorganizing.

me: have there been a lot of confused customers?

LATR: *nods*

me: well, it’ll look great once it’s finished.

LATR: it can’t be soon enough. *hands me my receipt* have a good evening.

me: thanks, you too.

and off i walk down the sidewalks, crosswalks, and streets of my neighborhood that i thankfully still recognize.

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #10

abby mumford

here’s why i’m talking with strangers.

a group of three mothers and six kids (five boys, one girl) get on the T. there are two empty seats on either side of me. the mom sits on one, the little girl on the other. she’s holding a rock. i stand up and offer to switch seats with the 4yo girl so she can be next to her mother. the girl shakes her head no, so i sit back down as the mother smiles her thanks.

me to girl : is that your pet rock?

her: yes. i’m going to paint it.

me: *noticing her pink shirt, pink leggings, pink socks, pink shoes.* pink?

her: yes. *waves hand over the top of the rock* spray paint. maybe stripes.

me:  that sounds lovely.

her: i like pink.

her mom, noticing my pink vest and pink scarf, smiles.

me: me too! i”ve got some pink going on here.

the girl smiles at my clothes, but the smile doesn’t stick because meanwhile, the other kids, the boys from the group are sitting across from us having their own conversation.

a 5yo boy says:  i’m not in love with her.

the other boys say something i don’t hear over the screeching of the train’s brakes, but it definitely riles him up because the boy says again:  i do not love her. we were never getting married.

her, swinging her feet higher and higher, looks over at her mom: they’re making fun of me.

and my heart breaks a little that she, this adorable bundle of pink, is so aware at such a young age. and i can’t wait for the day that kid realizes he does want to get married and publicly declares so.

maybe even while riding the T.

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #9

abby mumford

i’m talking with strangers. here’s why.

i’m inching my way up the security line at the airport. for the first time, i am going paperless, so i have my phone out with the QR code boarding pass ready…

*looking at my phone, the security guard (SG) puts his pen down* *turns on a machine.* *indicates i should put my phone over it.*

me: *puts phone face down over scanning device.* *nothing happens.* like this?

SG: yes, but you shouldn’t have to hold it there that long. this thing is still warming up, i guess. *shuts off the machine.* *turns it back on.* that ought to do the trick.

me: *puts phone up for scanning.* *green light blinks.* restarting a machine works every time!

man behind me (MBM): is that an app for US Airways?

me: no, just my boarding pass. when i checked in, they emailed me a link and this is what opened when i clicked.

MBM: what’s next in the world of paperless things?

me: this was actually my first time without a paper boarding pass. i was nervous.

SG: *hands me my ID.* not related to mumford and sons, are you?

me:  i wish!

SG: yeah, they’re not doing too badly, are they? they won a grammy.

me: i know.

SG: have a good flight.

me: thanks. have a good day.

he turns to the MBM and i trudge on through the gauntlet of airport security.