My Encounters with Strangers

I was worried that as I have gotten older that my approachability was diminishing. Throughout my adult life, people who I do not know have sought me out to ask me questions. Often these inquiries are regarding directions of recommendations. But with great regularity I attract interesting people with questions that border on the bizarre. For example, one time while at a festival, my friends and I watched as a street person weaved through a crowd to single me out and ask if I were carrying any alcohol he might have. (I did not.)

Any concerns I might have appear to be unfounded. I was sitting in Chipotle, enjoying a couple of tacos and jotting some notes and observations in my journal after a walk. A man and his wife, who I had noticed when I sat down and judged to be about my age, approached me as I was studiously recording the afternoon’s event. “Excuse me,” he said, “do you mind if I ask you a question?” Such an inquiry is usually a prelude to a request for money but, as he had just finished eating and there was no other signs that he might need money, I was intrigued. I indicated my willingness to be engaged. “Does the type of music they play here bother you?” he asked. I chuckled that he had navigated his way through a maze of people and chairs in a half full restaurant to solicit my opinion of the music played over the speakers. He seemed rather disappointed when I said that it did not, in fact, bother me. He excused himself noting that he found the music very irritating. We both went our own ways, me thinking about what make people think I would be interested in these conversations.