I have the most bizzare interactions with strangers.
Recently, I’ve had a drug addict asked me if I would bite her drug dealer. (No) Or if I would let him bite me. (Also no.) This woman then told my friend and I that we’re ”gorgeous, and educated too. You can tell!” To which my friend replied, “Don’t let the accent fool you.” She’s not wrong, she’s just a jerk.
A few days ago I met the self proclaimed town drunk of Fairfield, CT., who in addition to telling me three semi-funny jokes, also told me that he was in the French Foreign Legion, was a graveyard shift construction worker, was the man who issued the subpoena to Monica Lewinsky, and then accurately guessed my ethnicity. He told me his house was “twenty yards that way” but then later it was “ten feet that way.” I reached the conclusion that he lives in a mobile home / his car.
Next time I try to pick up random, obviously uninterested girls at a bar, I’m probably going to use those lines. They’re solid gold.
My most recent and new # 1 favorite stranger interaction happened late Friday afternoon, at the New Haven Green. I had gone out to lunch and was now sitting on a bench with my lunch date, chatting and people watching.
We notice a man on the other side of the green wearing a three piece business suit, and has flowing locks growing from the bottom 2/3 of his scalp, and had chosen to leave the top 1/3 bald. Walking in our direction, he suddenly changed his route. What’s this he’s found? A lawn chair under a tree. He picks up the chair and walks towards us once again. “Min…I think he’s gonna try and sit with us”
He comes over, mumbling something incomprehensible. Something to do with the chair. “Oh that’s been there since before we got here – I think someone left it.” He tries to assemble the forgotten chair. “Oh it’s broken right there on the corner. That’s too bad.”
The man says in his British accent (sounded educated to me), “It’s difficult to resist picking up trash from a concentration camp.” And walked away.
Now, I don’t know if everyone is familiar with the New Haven Green. But let me tell you, it is by no means concentration camp.
Immediately after the mans departure, another one came into our lives. This fellow, an elderly man with bleached blonde hair in a similar 2/3 of the scalp style said, “That guy is crazy. I smoke ALOT of pot and I don’t even talk like that!”
I really don’t know what it is. I don’t talk to strangers or really do anything that should instigate these interactions. I’m a normal looking, normally behaved person. So, I wonder if other people have equally odd interactions with as much frequency, and if so – why am I not told about them?
A bad neighbour is as great a misfortune as a good one is a great blessing
Published Tuesday, March 17, 2009 Thoughts , social commentary , work Leave a CommentTags: work
I’ve always been a big supporter of the notion that you can create positive work environments and create positive group dynamics in teams.
Luckily for me, I’ve managed to get a job where these things already exist.
Very lucky.