convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #51

i am talking to strangers?! what? why?

my brain was full of to do lists and errands to run and upcoming bills and author names and that cute boy who got his haircut before me and things to pack and get there faster and family members and trips and sicknesses and concerts and what to wear and which suitcase to use and rushing, rushing, rushing.

the glow from the girl’s phone illuminated not only her coat but the fact she was directly in my path.

both my brain and my body halted.

well, my brain did. there was too much momentum behind me to slow my body that fast. i shifted to the left. she shifted to her right. i moved to the right as she moved to the left. i went up on my tiptoes to avoid crashing into her as we yet again unintentionally blocked each other’s paths.

forced into a conversation, my brain solidified, which was much better than the meltdown it was just in.

her: SORRY!

me: SORRY!

laughing, we paused long enough to pick separate paths and continued on our ways. my brain resumed its frantic pace, as did my feet. i churned through errands until i found myself in the exact. same. situation. but this time, it was on two different sides of a door.

giving in first, i pulled away, as did the other girl.


i reached for the door at the same time as the other girl.

i paused. looked. focused.

it was me.

i was doing the “we’re trying to walk the same route” dance with my reflection.

laughing, i burst through the door and out of my muddled, mashed up thoughts.

p.s. i want to squeeze the noodles out of all of you who entered the contest on tuesday’s post! that said, there can only be two winners and they are: EMILY AND JULIE! (thank you, ladies, check your emails for details. :)

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #49

i’m talking to strangers?! yes indeedy.

before meeting up with a few fellow single ladies for a low key birthday celebration, i ran a couple of errands.

me: i’m picking up a prescription for mumford. *spells name*

him: first name?

me: abigail.

him: date of birth.

me: january 8.

him: *types into computer* *pauses* *looks up* happy birthday.

me: thank you!

him: it took me a minute to connect the dots.

he grabbed my prescription as i marveled at his ingenuity. granted, it wasn’t that difficult to realize it was my birthday given i had just told him my date of birth, but i’m often surprised when others (say a bartender with my license in hand) overlook it.

it was a small comment, but him connecting the dots put some frosting on otherwise boring errands.

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #48

i’m talking to strangers?! what in the world?! here’s why.

i dashed into PSB, my mecca, on a brief lunch break. after finding the book i needed (okay, wanted) in record time, i proceeded to wait in the “last days before christmas” long line.

her: i can help you over here.

me: *goes to far side of cash register* *hands over book*

her: *switches to near side of cash register*

me: oh, sorry.

her: don’t worry about it. are you part of our frequent buyer program?

me: sure am. *spells last name* *moves belongings over to near side of register*

her: abigail?

me: yup.

her: from twitter?

me: *eyebrows raised*

her: we have some friends in common, @letterandline and @adicloud. i’m sarah.

me: oh, hi!

her: *tells me the total*

me: *pays* *grabs book* have a good one, sarah.

i had a vague feeling i’d heard about her before when gabbing online with the aforementioned ladies about bookstores and readings and the like, but unfortunately, the caffeine i’d gulped down in too large quantities that morning didn’t leave me with the attention span to do anything other than revel in how famous i felt as i jitterbugged back to my car.

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convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #47

i’m talking to strangers?! what in the world?! here’s why.

i finished a round of me vs. the dust bunnies. i won.

then i tackled all the other cleaning things because i had friends coming to town and, yeah, no need for them to see dirty floors, crumbs, or sticky counters.

i won that battle too.

the last round consisted of me carrying two trash bags, one brown bag of recyclables, a shoebox, a salad container, plus an empty quart of milk out back to the garbage and recycling cans. with my keys in one hand, i was balancing everything in the other and had to make use of my chin to keep everything from toppling.

then i realized i had to close the front door behind me.

adjusting my position one miniscule movement at a time, i angled myself back to the door and took another 3 minutes to turn back to face the stairs.

a young college student did a double take as he took in my precarious position.

him: you need help?

me: oh, thank you. no, i think i’ve got it.

the truth was, i figured if i renegotiated my hold on things, i would have lost it all, so best not to accept his help. he left with a smile and i was left dazzled by the kindness of this stranger.

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convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #45

talking to strangers? here’s why.

i had just settled into the hard plastic seat when the mechanic stuck his head into the waiting room.

him: you don’t have the chrysler anymore?

me: *thinks, first car was the performance edition, chrysler. second, current car, is cirrus, chyrsler* *pokes head into garage* *sees shiny chrysler logo on the side of the car facing us* *points to it* that is the chrysler.

him: oh. right. i thought it was a dodge neon.

me: *smiles* *thinks, a mechanic not recognizing a car? isn’t that like my hair dresser asking me if my hair color is real? (it is)* *wonders if i could get a discount for being so smart* *settles back in to wait*

20 minutes later.

him: abigail, your car is all set. that’ll be $$$$$.

me: *sighs* thanks.

him: i didn’t realize your car was a ’99.

me: yup. it is.

him: you’ve got really low mileage on it.

me: before me, it was owned by a family friend’s grandmother, and i probably drive it as much as she did.

him: it’s got some pep in it. when i drove it out [of the garage], it zoomed.

me: *smiles* *thinks, if you thought this car had pep, you should have seen the performance edition* *pour one out for the performance edition. what a great car that was!*

him: well, just keep doing what you’re doing and this should last you 150K to 200K miles.

me: at the rate i’m going (it has 53K miles on it), i’ll have this car until i’m retired.

him: not a bad idea. you have a good night.

me: thanks. you too.

and with that, i (the one who graduated high school in ’99) walked over to my freshly oiled car (who was born in ’99) and drove off into the sunset. seriously. it appears we’re going to have a long life together.

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