Meeting New People
I stopped at the bank today to make a quick deposit. In my head I was thinking it would take three minutes - tops. The teller, Norma, had different ideas. She asked me about the weather, what I was doing in Niagara Falls, the color of my car, whether or not I had any children, if I wanted to get a new credit card through the bank, and finally she explained why Wednesday feels like the longest day of the week to her.
I wasn't rude. I didn't feel much like talking, but I feigned interest in all of her wonderful words of wisdom. It wasn't like she was bothering me, either - she was just too cheerful.
It got me to thinking about perfect strangers and how if you give them a few minutes they will tell you their whole life story. As I waited in line at Cedar Point last week for a water ride this man stuck his hand out to me. "I'm Tim," he said. "Since we're stuck in line we may as well get to know each other."
Not what Iwas thinking, but no lies here, I found out that Tim was nearing his 40th birthday; he has 9 kids; he lost his job for punching his boss who was new to the business where he worked for 22 years. The result of the punch is in arbitration because the union has his back.
I also learned that Tim likes lots of beer - "I had about ten this morning," he said.
And that his wife tips the scales at over 500 pounds - "She's waiting for me at the exit, but she gets kind of ashamed about being out in public."
"She shouldn't be ashamed," I said lamely. I mean really, how do you answer that?
Tim didn't have anyone to sit next to for the ride. "My wife can't fit in the car. Do you mind going with me?"
I was in line with my sister-in-law and my mother-in-law. I wasn't real sure if they wanted to share a ride with Tim, yet, it was a four-seater.
As we hit the peak and started the descent Tim offered me a high-five - I slapped hands with him as we plunged into the water. I was drenched from head-to-toe and I shared a good, long laugh with Tim who reached across me and high-fived my mother-in-law.
I guess, as I write this, that there isn't a profound point to any of it, but despite my misgivings, I was glad to meet Tim.
Norma's theory is that Wednesday is too far away from the past weekend and not close enough to the coming weekend and that's why Wednesday's seem so long. I'll probably think of her each Wednesday.
In the end, I suppose, we all have a story to tell, and we might just need to tell it to everyone we meet.
I wasn't rude. I didn't feel much like talking, but I feigned interest in all of her wonderful words of wisdom. It wasn't like she was bothering me, either - she was just too cheerful.
It got me to thinking about perfect strangers and how if you give them a few minutes they will tell you their whole life story. As I waited in line at Cedar Point last week for a water ride this man stuck his hand out to me. "I'm Tim," he said. "Since we're stuck in line we may as well get to know each other."
Not what Iwas thinking, but no lies here, I found out that Tim was nearing his 40th birthday; he has 9 kids; he lost his job for punching his boss who was new to the business where he worked for 22 years. The result of the punch is in arbitration because the union has his back.
I also learned that Tim likes lots of beer - "I had about ten this morning," he said.
And that his wife tips the scales at over 500 pounds - "She's waiting for me at the exit, but she gets kind of ashamed about being out in public."
"She shouldn't be ashamed," I said lamely. I mean really, how do you answer that?
Tim didn't have anyone to sit next to for the ride. "My wife can't fit in the car. Do you mind going with me?"
I was in line with my sister-in-law and my mother-in-law. I wasn't real sure if they wanted to share a ride with Tim, yet, it was a four-seater.
As we hit the peak and started the descent Tim offered me a high-five - I slapped hands with him as we plunged into the water. I was drenched from head-to-toe and I shared a good, long laugh with Tim who reached across me and high-fived my mother-in-law.
I guess, as I write this, that there isn't a profound point to any of it, but despite my misgivings, I was glad to meet Tim.
Norma's theory is that Wednesday is too far away from the past weekend and not close enough to the coming weekend and that's why Wednesday's seem so long. I'll probably think of her each Wednesday.
In the end, I suppose, we all have a story to tell, and we might just need to tell it to everyone we meet.
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