Lilies in Summer

Who knew flowers were such great conversation starters? And I don't mean flowers starting to talk to me, but rather what happened on the bus on my way back home.

Having won the raffle at our office for week-old flowers, consisting of white gladiolus, purple roses, and pink Peruvian lilies, I get on the bus and sit between two men. One the one side, an older African-American man (Man 2) wearing a 2008 Beijing Olympics cap ( how fitting for the occasion) and on the other side  a middle-age Filipino (Man 1) man. Both admire the flowers and the following conversation ensues (although much better than what I remember):

Man 1:Nice flowers. Put them in water when you get home.
Me: Yes.
Man 2: Hmmph. As if you didn't know how to do that already! Why he tellin' you that for?
Me: Maybe some people don't have that common knowledge?
Man 1: Are these flowers for you or someone else?
Me: For me and my roommate.
Man 1: Very nice. My uncle has a house with a garden and lots of flowers. You like flowers?
Me: Yes. I try to get fresh flowers weekly from the Farmer's Market.
Man 2: Where do you get gladious from this time of year?
Me: I don't know. I got these from work.

By this point, Man 1 is telling me about where he lives, how much he pays for his apartment, about wanting to buy a house, and a bunch of other things that were providing me with way too much information. I smile and nod and agree to owning my own property with a garden one day.

Man 2: Do you write?
Me: Not as much as I'd like to. Why?
Man 2: You should.
Me: Well, I actually have a blog where I write about interactions I have with strangers- like this. This conversation would be blog material.
Man 2: Lilies in Summer. That would be a good title to start off a story.
Me: Do you write?
Man 2: Yes. I used to. It's been a while.
Me: What do you write? Fiction, non-fiction, poetry?
Man 2: A little bit of everything, but its been a while. Haven't been inspired. Waiting on my muse.
Me: Interesting that you are waiting on a muse. I recently heard an author speak about creativity coming from outside yourself versus inside yourself, and how the anciet Romans and Greeks always ascribed works of art to a higher power- a muse.
Man 2: Oh yes. Definitely. She gives me creativity and inspiration?
Me: She?
Man 2: My muse.
Me: So it's a She?
Man 2: It's always a She. But She hasn't visited in a while. I might have upset her or something. But I've been waking up at 3:15 AM in the mornings, and I think She's getting ready to visit me again.
Me: You never know. Maybe you'll wake up tomorrow morning and be inspired to write something. Better have a pen and paper at hand.
Man 2: Oh yes. I'll do that and remember you. Gotta write down what She tells me. If not, She'll go to someone else.
Me: You also have to give yourself time.

In the meantime, we reach Man 1's bus stop. He gets up to leave, wishes me a good evening, asks me my name, says "Nice to meet you" and walks off the bus.

Man 2: That was a nice ending. "Nice to meet you." That's a good ending to a story.

I talk a bit more with Man 2, listening to him speak about Her and how writing is a spiritual process, how he needs to get back to writing, and how I should be writing as well. We get to my stop, I get up to leave:

Me: Here's my stop. What was your name?
Man 2: Max ( or Mac or Marc, didn't hear it too well)
Me: Well, nice to meet you.

Pet Turtles

It's been almost two years since I've posted, but the following conversation today is the reason for this blog's rebirth.

On my way to meet a friend for some iced beverages, this happened:

Tall, cap, glasses dude walking towards me on the street: Excuse me, do you know where there's a pet store around here?

Me: A pet store? As in a Petco for pet food or a store that actually sells animals?

Tall, cap, glasses dude: An actual pet store where they sell animals.

Me: In downtown DC? I have no idea? Did someone tell you it's around here?

Tall, cap, glasses dude: No, but I figured there's a lot of stores this way and I've been walking for a while. If I continue walking, would I find one?

Me: No. Not here.Just clothing stores and restaurants.

Tall, cap, glasses dude: Well, here's the story. I pet-sat my friend's turtle and we bonded so now I want a turtle of my own.

Me: Ok. That's understandable, but no pet stores around here that sell turtles. Maybe ask the Zoo? Or the Humane Society?

Tall, cap, glasses dude: I thought I'd ask you since you look like you like animals. Do you have pets?

Me: Yes, a cat, but not in DC.

Tall, cap, glasses dude: So no experience with turtles?

Me: No. Sorry.

Tall, cap, glasses dude: Ok. I guess I can just look up the Humane Society and give them a call. Or go by the Zoo with my backpack and see what I find.

Me: Well, good luck.

Anonymity and Finiteness

On my way back from work today, as I was crossing the street, the following conversation ensued:

Man: Excuse me, are you from around here?
Me: I am still relatively new but can try to help if you're asking for directions.
Man: How long have you been in DC for?
Me: Almost a year.
Man: That's not new anymore.
Me: What are you looking for?
Man: The German Marshall Fund.
Me: Nope. Sorry. Don't know where that is. Do you know the streets/intersection?
Man: No, but they did tell me to walk this way and that I will walk past a triangle/island in the street.
Me: Yes. That's coming up ahead.
Man: So what do you do?
Me: I am a student. Studying International Development at GW.
Man: Ok. I work at the UN in Geneva so I can relate to your studies.
Me: I've been to Geneva once.
Man: Really? How so?
Me: Orchestra trip. We did the European tour.
Man: What instrument do you play?
Me: Mandolin ( I can never say this with a straight face. Never)
Man: Haha. Really? I played the bamboo flute. Have you ever seen one?
Me: No but I can imagine it's just a bamboo shoot with holes in it.
Man: Pretty much.

At this point we get to the 'triangle' in the road and soon enough see the building for the German Marshall Fund.

Man: Oh look. There it is. You cannot really be credited for helping me find it.
Me: No but I'll take the credit for the company.
Man: Does this happen to you often? People approaching you and start having conversations?
Me: Actually yes. Quite often. In fact, I write a blog about these dialogues. This is definitely going in it tonight.
Man: Do you think it happens to you more than to other people?
Me: I don't know.
Man: So why do you think these encounters happen?
Me: Well, I am still a bit out of my context in DC so am naturally more open to strangers and friendly enough to engage.
Man: And how do you usually take these?
Me: I smile. I think it's comic.
Man: Is this random? Comical? Boring?
Me: No, it's relevant. Definitely random.
Man: You know what it is? It's anonymity and finiteness. You know that after a few minutes you won't see this person again so it is easier to talk to them and then leave. Also, you know you have a limited amount of time so you are never stuck in case the conversation is boring.
Me: I agree. That might explain this and the basis of my blog.
Man: Like on a plane. You know that you will never see the person again and don't mind what you say as long as you are not stuck in a dreadfully boring conversation. Knowing it's finite makes things a lot easier because you don't want to spend an eternity in a dull conversation.
Me: Funny that you mention this because I'm reading The Five People You Meet in Heaven.
Man: So is this a dull conversation?
Me: No, I'm just trying to decide what part of it I'll blog about.
Man: So do you have anything you want to ask me?
Me: Ummm. So what brings you to DC?
Man: Well, I gave for a conference and just gave a speech at the IMF. Which explains why I feel like talking to anyone on the street right now.

By this point, we're in the shade having a conversation on development (which I will spare you), alongside questions of my future plans, etc. We continue for quite a bit, never once shaking hands to exchange our names. Anonymity- so true, so comforting.

Finiteness.
Man: Listen, I am leaving tomorrow afternoon. My time here is limited, but if you want to continue this dialogue, what are you doing at noon tomorrow?

Nirvana

Sometimes all it takes is a quick run to Starbucks across the street to have the conversation that puts a smile on my face. It's another 95 degree day and an iced latte was calling my name so I quickly respond and run inside ready to cool off. A middle-aged Indian man cuts in front of me ( I'm not sure if he saw that I was waiting in line so I'm not judging) and orders some coffee. He takes out a Starbucks card to pay and the cashier says it didn't go through. He tries another card which works fine and turns around to say to me:

Indian Man: That was embarassing. Or not embarassing, rather unmindful.
Me ( smiling trying not to be awkward): Oh, it doesn't matter. It's ok.

Starbucks guy is excusing himself for making me wait while he's trying to get the man's coffee.

Me ( to Starbucks guy): It's ok. I'm in no rush. Take your time.
Indian Man: Really? You must be really unique then. Everyone's always in a rush.

He continues to stare at me intently, intrigued that I am not in a rush.

Indian Man: So how do you do it? You're always in Nirvana? Got the Zen going on? What's the secret?
Me: I'm just taking my coffee break and not really rushing anywhere so I might as well take my time and relax.
Indian Man: Ok. Good for you. Have a nice day. Bye. (or something like that)

Then it's my turn to order and I start interrogating the Starbucks guy about how they decide the order of adjectives because everytime I order a "tall, iced, latte" they yell out "iced, tall, latte." Who decides this order? I think the size should come before the description, but I won't worry too much over this lest I lose my zen.

Underage

The other week my friend Jackie was in town with her boyfriend and we met up for dinner and a little tour of DC/Georgetown. After walking for about two hours, I wanted to take them to this gelatto place in Dupont. As we're crossing the street, these girls approach me and after what seemed like they looked me up and down to make sure I would have a good answer they ask:

Girls: Do you know any good places for going out around here? Any bars?

Me: What are you looking for?

Girls: Somewhere to have a good time.

Me: Ok. Cross the cirlce. Other side of Dupont there's a bunch of places for going out. 18th St. Lounge, Lucky Bar, Citron, Current... Just cross the park and you'll find something.

Girls: Where are you going out tonight?

Me: Um, I'm getting gelatto and going to bed.

Girls: Ok. Thanks.

Me: Have fun. Bye.

Now, the first thing that was weird is that they looked so young. Who knows where they're from...suburbs or out of state. Where are their parents? Secondly, they asked where I was going out. As if I would want them to tag along. No open invitation from my part.

About an hour or so after that encounter, I drop Jackie off at the Metro and who do I see sitting on the edge of the station but those girls.

Me: Hey, did you guys find some good place?

Girls: No. Our IDs didn't work. They wouldn't let us in.

Me: Haha. I did think you looked underage.

Girls ( looking annoyed): Thanks.

Me: Take it as a compliment.

So, I was right. Those girls had no business trying to get into a bar... or hanging out with me.

Sunscreen

It's a sunny 80+ degrees in DC today and since I needed my Vitamin D, as well as a lunch break away from this computer, I cross the street to the little park in front of my office and proceed to apply sunblock on my face.

A few minutes into it, a guy walks by and says, " You gonna lather me up?" Then proceeds to sit next to me. Here's more or less of our conversation:

Me: Umm, no, but I'll give you some sunblock.
Him (taking off his hat and extending his face): Here, put some on my face.
Me: I'll give you sunblock but won't put it on you.
Him: Why not?
Me: It's weird. I don't know you.
Him: Then let me introduce myself.
Me: I'll share my sunblock with you. Here. I'm not going to put it on you though.
Him (extending his palm as I give him some): You think this is enough?
Me: Yes.
Him: I walked all the way from the Smithsonian. It's hot outside. I'm from Nebraska.
Me: So you're not used to the weather? I'm from Chicago, so I know what you mean about the cold.
Him: Alright- Midwest.

He is lathering his own face throughout our conversation.

Him: I like to keep stay pale in the summer as much as I can. Like you.
Me: I'm not pale. I'm working on my tan.
Him: Ok. Not pale but lighter than me.
Me: So what are you doing in town?
Him: I'm in the Navy.
Me: Ok. Nice.

By this point, the sunscreen has been absorbed and he gets up, shakes my hand, and leaves. It took about 5 minutes. Really strange but at the end of the day, some people just need to talk.. and other want their faces touched.