Category: convos with strangers

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #8

abby mumford

here’s why i’m talking with strangers.

i’m waiting alone at the bus stop. i’m using my handy dandy “catch the bus” app, so when i see the glowing orange light of an approaching bus i’m a bit surprised. the app says i still have 5 minutes to wait.

as the bus gets closer, i see it’s the #10. ah ha, see, i’m waiting for the #9.

the brakes screech their protest as the driver slows for me — a potential rider.

he opens the door and makes eye contact.

i shake my head.

he points up, presumably at the sign labeling the bus as a #10, making sure i’m sure this isn’t the bus i want.

i smile and motion to him to continue on.

he waves and closes the door, off to the next stop.

it appears whole conversations can be had without speaking at all.

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #7

abby mumford

here’s why i’m talking with strangers.

adriana and i were out grabbing a drink after a hectic work day. we’d ordered and received our drinks and were going to order an appetizer, but not yet. we needed more time to enjoy said beverages.

bartender: you doing okay?

me: *nods*

adriana: *hands him the menus.*

*bartender leaves.*

i turn to adriana and she to me: wait, what did he say?

me: i thought he asked if we were okay.

adriana: oh, i thought he said are you going to order. but then you said yes and i was thinking, wait, we need more time.

me: why’d you hand him the menus then?

adriana: i was confused. you seemed so sure in your answer, but then he walked away.

it’s interesting the way bar noise and your own expectations can change the sound of the words hitting your ears.

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #6

abby mumford

even though my mom taught me not to, here’s why i’m talking with strangers.

i pulled into the grocery store parking lot and got out. unfortunately, my finger didn’t move as fast as the rest of me and as a result, got smashed in the car door.

a few seconds later, i could breathe through the pain, but looked at my finger and there was blood everywhere. i couldn’t exactly go into a store like that, so i plunked my purse onto the trunk of my car and got out tissue. i noticed someone out of the corner of my eye and it’s the guy putting away the shopping carts. he was making his way over to me (i parked next to the cart holding area), so i’m not exactly sure if he was just doing his job, coming over to comment on my stupidity, or was maybe going to offer some concern? when it was clear he had something to say, i looked away from my damaged finger and over to him.

him: i was just trying to read your jersey.

me: oh. um, well, it says devils lacrosse club.

him: are you a good player?

me: i was. this is from high school.

him: where was that?

me: new jersey.

him: oh, yes like the [new jersey devils] hockey team. are you going to play in the Olympics?

me: i wish. it’s not an Olympic sport yet.

him: it’s not? too bad.

i couldn’t agree more, and it has been a lifelong (unattainable) dream of mine to be in the olympics, but come on, look at me in this moment. i couldn’t be less of an Olympian. i just shut my own finger in the car door. clearly, i’m going to need some more time.

perhaps i’ll be ready for the 2016 summer Olympics.

and, for the time being, at least the guy took my mind off the incredible pain of my stupidity.

convos with strangers, travel

conversations with strangers #5

abby mumford

even though my mom taught me not to, here’s why i’m talking with strangers.

i was dining al fresco with mom, dad, and sister E in sorrento, italy. the patio was packed, so it felt like we were at a table for 16 rather than a table for four.

dad paid the bill. the waiter grinned at the tip left. (they sure loved us americans.)

waiter: he’s a good man.

mom: yes, he is. we’re been married 40 years this year.

man from the table next to us: i don’t mean to eavesdrop, but i have to say, congrats!

mom: thanks!

man: *gestures to wife* we’re at 33 years this year!

mom: congrats to you too as well!

man: thanks!

and with grins wide from wine and long lasting relationships, we left.

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #4

abby mumford

(i know, i know, you want an italian recap. you’re going to have to wait a little longer as i struggle with some serious jetlag. and, to refresh your memory about why i’m talking with strangers, here’s the deal.)

a couple of weeks ago, i was back in wonderland, aka porter square books. i had time to browse and oh boy was it fun to sift through the titles and skim through the jackets with nothing more important on the agenda than picking new books for my TBR list. they didn’t have the book i originally came in to buy (DIE FOR ME by amy plum), so i picked up HOLD ME CLOSER, NECROMANCER by lish mcbride mainly because of this review, but also because i find it impossible to walk out of a bookstore with empty hands.

“you’re all set?” the man asked.

“yes, this, and could you order a book for me?”

“sure thing. what’s the title?”

“DIE FOR ME by amy plum.”

he types some stuff into the computer. “i don’t see it. you said it was called DIAPER ME?”

me, mentally pointing to the name of my blog, can’t decide whether to make a joke or repeat myself. i settle for the latter, but wonder if he’ll even be able to understand me due to my barely contained laughter.

“oh,” he says, giving into his own chuckles, “i thought it was some kind of parenting book.”