Talking to Strangers

1. A few years ago, upon her return from school one day, Beth reported that a youngster in her charge had said to her something like, "What? Do you just talk to anybody?" I think he was about 9. What she had said and to what stranger she said it, is lost in the mists of time.

2. I was recently seated at the Alki Bakery enjoying a fine vegetarian sandwich when I noticed two women meet, greet and then sit to eat. One of these had a great body. A few years ago I would have meant by this that she was a busty number, but now after a couple of years of humility training, and particularly this last quarter under the tutelage of a guy who is a competing body builder I mean that her stomach was flat, her bottom sagged not and her neck and shoulders, which were nicely revealed by the scoop neck blouse she wore, had every sign of a person who spends serious time in a gym. She was not under fed. She looked firm and strong. It might be that this look was simply a genetic gift except at her age, perhaps about 40, it seemed more likely the result of a lot of hard work. Earlier in the day I had seen a man wearing a tee shirt with the words, "This working out thing isn't working out." I'd say he was running about 265 and any muscle there was was well disguised. I spent the rest of my lunch wondering if I should say something to the woman about how well working out was working out for her. I went through a number of variations on how I might express my admiration without seeming like a sleazy old man, including beginning with a characterization of my marital status which I think is reasonably sound. In as much as I like talking to good looking young women (a cohort that now extends at least to age 45) I had a lot of difficulty sorting out my motivations. How much of this was an impulse to compliment something I actually admire and how much of it was a pitiful old man thing?

About half an hour later I came upon a guy walking up Jackson St., near Quest Field. His tee shirt sleeves rolled back from biceps approaching the size of cantaloupes. His thighs stretched the material of his pants. As I biked past I said, "Nice biceps".

"Thanks."

I suspect they represent a lot of work."

"You know it."

That's all the complimenting I did that day.

3. A couple of days ago I rode up to a red light and as I sometimes do, stopped. It was a Monday and tacked to the utility pole were two or three signs from the weekend announcing garage and yard sales. Also waiting at the light was a man about 50, well dressed in a shirt and slacks. It was near Green Lake where a big majority of those on the street are wearing some sort of athletic apparel. It's a long light. After a moment I said to him, "I could have a sale. My sigh would say 'Junk Sale'". He stared straight ahead.

A Photographic Anecdote

in which the author goes to the store for some staples and finds a useful item on the way home.



As explained elsewhere all the things you really need are out there on the road someplace waiting to be picked up.