[Not a review of the Malcolm Gladwell book haha.] I arrive at the cafe right at opening time to claim the coveted seat by the window. I place my order at the bar, snap some interior photos with my phone and disposable camera, then settle back into my corner, staring out the window and thinking about what tablescapes to shoot once I get my food and drink. I need to use my film wisely and snap my photos quickly, before more customers arrive, before the milk foam turns from smooth froth to lumpy bubbles; there’s a lot to contemplate.
A guy asks if I’d like a photo of myself on my disposable. There aren’t any customers but the two of us (for now), so I know it must be me that this stranger is talking to. He said that the scene of me gazing out the window was so picturesque, and I assume he must have noticed me snapping photos of the cafe interior earlier. Usually I’m not one for getting my photo taken, but it was a rare moment I wanted to take hold of; on my phone I could set a self-timer if I really wanted to, but I could do no such thing with a disposable.
I’m back to staring out the window, and he’s bent over his coffee with my disposable in his hands, no doubt tuning into his deepest, most artistic self, when all of a sudden he exclaims that he’s accidentally dunked his beard into his coffee. We share this silly moment, chat for a little while longer, then carry about our own business at our separate tables.
I don’t talk to anyone else for the rest of the time I’m at the cafe, but I notice that every time someone new sits at the guy’s table (he’s sat at a large communal table), he wishes them a happy Friday the 13th, and more often than not, will continue to chat with them for a bit, before they each turn back to their own work.
There are some people who can go anywhere and talk to anybody. I am definitely not one of those people. I don’t even learn the names of the baristas at the cafes I frequent, except for the one time a barista told me he noticed me coming in regularly (guilty–I lived right next door) and we finally introduced ourselves after months, only for me to move away a month later without giving any notice.
So it came as a surprise when my friend Bomi told me, “You have such interesting interactions with strangers.” Now that she’d pointed it out, I suppose she had a point. So I thought it’d be fun to immortalise some of the occasions I’ve talked to strangers. These occasions feel momentous for their rarity; it’s safe to assume I haven’t talked to another living soul besides for these moments.
// At Trader Joe’s, a Chinese grandma asks me to pick out avocados for her (in Chinese). She doesn’t know what an avocado is and needs my help picking out a good one. We choose out one ripe one that she can use right away, then choose a few that can sit in her kitchen for a little while longer.
// At Starbucks, I have out a museum book for the Hirshhorn Museum that I thrifted for a friend (the Hirshhorn Museum is her favourite museum) because it’s too big to fit in my bag, and it draws two people into conversation with me. One is a retired old guy who takes art history classes at local universities for fun. He tells me about his time serving during the Vietnam War and we chat about travel experiences. The other is a young lady who gives tips about which local museums have pay-what-you-wish days. I later learn she’s homeless; she’s in Starbucks charging her new phone. It seems that the old guy vaguely knows the young lady; he gave her some money earlier. They chat about her daughter, who is living with her sister. Before she leaves Starbucks, she tells me she won’t ask me for money because she doesn’t ask for money from strangers. I’m confused but grateful for the conversation to end. The old guy tells me he’s sorry for dragging me into the conversation with her but couldn’t have done it alone. I can sympathise.
// I’m power walking through the city (there’s no other way to walk) when a guy joins my stride and asks if there’s a thrift store nearby. I find it quite random until I remember that I’m carrying a charity shop tote bag; it has the shop’s logo and a promo advertising 5% off all purchases when you bring in that bag. Although I bought that tote ages ago, it just so happened that I was back in the same neighbourhood, and the shop was indeed nearby. He told me he loved thrifted clothes, which I found vaguely intriguing because his current dress was very shiny and preppy, but hey, you can find anything at thrift stores. We chatted the logistics of getting there, and since the bus to take him there was on my way, I had no choice but to keep walking and talking. He thought my tote was funny and said it was free advertising. I was happy to be of service. It’s for charity after all.
// At a concert by myself, I’m reading a book on my phone between the set change. (Does anyone know what you’re supposed to do during that achingly long time?? I’m not giving up my spot to look at merch; that can wait until after the show! If I’m with a friend, we usually just shout over the ruckus about when we think the headliner will come on, even though I’m pretty sure it always takes 15 minutes.) A tall guy worms his way into my spot. I hate confrontation, so I note how inconsiderate that was in my head and keep reading my book off to the side. Then he goes, “Are you reading a book?” And I’m like, “Uh, yeah.” And he’s like, “You must really like reading.” I’m still salty about this tall frat bro taking my spot, so I just say, “Yeah.”
What’s an ~interesting~ interaction you’ve had with a stranger?
Bloomsday Cafe
414 S 2nd St
Philadelphia, PA 19147
(267) 319-8018