Those Random Interactions

Inherent to living in the city is the almost compulsory interactions with strangers - interactions you likely wouldn't have with such frequency if you living in such a great concentation of people. This very fact is perhaps one the greatest things about living in the city.

Sometimes the interactions are awkward. Sometimes they are encouraging. Sometimes they are baffling. Sometimes they are disturbing. Sometimes they are hilarious. And, sometimes they are simply frustrating. I was realizing today that, in any given day, I have at least one interaction with a stranger and more often than not my interaction falls into one of the categories. I think that maybe I've become so accustomed to these extra-ordinary events that I don't even make note of them later in conversation however baffling or frustrating or hilarious they may be.

For instance, Wednesday. In a grimmy, slushy, straight-out-of-an-action-thriller creepy parking garage next to Columbia University down on Wabash, I encountered a rather large, stumpy Polish man who, after locking my keys in my car, proceeded to ream me out for his own mistake, blaming it on me. with his broken English, I could not tell you exactly why he believe it was my fault but, it was simply, in his mind, my fault. I should have told him this was going to happen. 30 minutes later. still can't get into my car. he walks back in to the front office and proceeds to argue with me about my payment for parking. he argued this time that, because I wasn't a student at Columbia I should not have received validated parking and therefore owed him another 20-some dollars. I proceeded to respond (in a contrastingly calm demeanor) that he was ridiculous. it was not his decision who should receive validated parking but, rather, it was Columbia University facility security that had cleared me. (Nevermind the fact that he locked my keys in the car and, if I had it my way, I shouldn't have to pay anything for my inconvenience.)

But, then, backup one week. Last Friday. It's early morning and I've not prepared enough time in the morning to dig myself out of the 5-foot snow drift in front of my car nor the 18-inches which accumulated overnight behind my car. In fact, I don't even own a shovel. (I did last year and I don't know where it is now. Because I believe I've only misplaced it, I won't go out and get another one. Poor reasoning. I know.) AND, I had planned a road trip for later in the day on Friday and had a ridiculous number of bags to schelp out to the car.

I figure it was best to tackle this project like any other - one step at a time. I brushed off my car. Trudged through the snow to the auto mechanic's shop and borrowed his shovel and just when I was about to embark on the biggest step of all for a weakling such as myself, a maroon Jeep (Grand Cherokee!) pulls up. A Hispanic neighbor (I'm presuming) of mine jumps out and, without any mastery of the English language, charades to me that he is willing to shovel me out. There was one shovel, though, and two of us. A dynamic which immediately threw me into a personal dilemma - the feministic bursts out of me every now and again at, I will admit, very inconvenient times. I had to watch as this gentleman who, thank God still values chilvary (and hence, retains the "gentle" in front of his name in my book) literally bails me out. I had nothing to repay him with! A true gift. I could only thank him and proceed on to work.

Backup another couple days. Tuesday of last week. I was driving home at 11 p.m. down Lake Shore Drive in the cold and the snow dump. Despite the cold and the weather, I figured this would be as good a time as any to make my grocery run. No one would be in Dominicks, right? And, I had the energy. Why not? Sure enough, it was just as I thought. Only the folks stocking the shelves and I took up space in the store.

While I retain that this was a good idea, I will be honest...it was a bit eery. The quiet. The florescent lights. No beeping of any kind or overhead music. And, I had this feeling I'd run into someone I knew who, would incidently have had the same random idea as I. I was jumpy, needless to say. It was at that moment, when I was walking down Aisle 2 - the soup aisle - that I receive a tap on the shoulder. I jumped, naturally. And spun around. (Quickly doing a count of the number of people I knew who could POSSIBLY be shopping at this store at this time in this ungodly weather.) I turn around and it's a Dominicks' employee hoping only to...let's say, strike a fancy with me. But, the scared look on my face was not the pretty one he'd seen walking fown Aisle 1 a couple minutes earlier. So, he promptly ran (no joke!) away with a quick wink. And I...was completely weirded out.

Like I said, it's the daily interaction with strangers in the city which make for great stories. Keeps life interesting! and keeps me beholden to city life.