I’m beginning to pay close attention to “for some reason” stories.
For some reason, I decided to take the bus one day.
A friend had made a request for people who could help him move some stuff. He wanted to start early with a 9:00 am meet time.
I decided that I would plan to show up. The night before, I started planning. I knew Mom would be taking the car that day and to the same meet place. She said that 9 am was too early a target time for her to be there. So I decided that I would take the bus. I was actually looking forward to it.
On the morning of the move, I woke up early, got ready, and headed out to the bus. Since I don’t have a bus pass this season, I walked 20 minutes to the bus stop on the main road [instead of the one on my street which would have added a transfer].
As I approached the bus stop, there was a young woman standing and smoking a cigarette. She was in a white Vampire Knight shirt and jeans. Her hair was blonde, long and straight, with bands of blue hair at the bottom of the back and bangs. Her lips were blue. Her nails were blue.
She gave me a little smile. “I like your shirt,” she said.
I was wearing a pink To Write Love on Her Arms shirt. “Thank you,” I replied.
She went on to say that the singer of her favorite band supported the TWLOHA cause. We talked just a little more, mostly about the org. I learned more about her favorite band and the singer.
That was about it. The bus came in about 2 minutes.
I’m not very good at coming up with small talk stuff but I don’t really know how to draw strangers into real conversation. I want to be better at it though.
The potential for this kind of encounter is one of the reasons why I like riding the bus every so often. There’s a chance that I’ll meet someone and we’ll talk. It’s a chance to make connections with people outside of my comfort zone [well, I’m usually not very comfortable in what should be my comfort zone anyway]. I wanna meet people. I wanna know their story. And should someone have a need that they share, I wanna see how I could possibly help. I still think about Brother George [He Woke Me Up This Morning]. I hope he’s doing well.
I don’t know. But I think stuff like this is why I had started to wear the pink shirt more often, waiting around for someone to say something about it. Then the blue blonde girl says something and I… I don’t know. I’m sitting here thinking, “Why didn’t I at least ask her name?” Maybe something more could have happened. Maybe I’ll see her again. I could use another friend.
Little steps, Jennifer. Next time, you’ll do better, you’re getting there.
God, I hope so.
[I'm getting a couple songs from the band she mentioned. They sound good.]