The Day That A Little Kid Threw A Rock At Me
I was sitting with a friend in Prospect Park and we noticed a cute kid, maybe 3 years old, kind of ambling toward us with his or her father (we couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl). And we smiled, I did anyway, the way you do at cute kids. And as the kid got closer, she gave me that wary look when they don't know what to make of you but they're obviously a little uncomfortable that you're staring at them. So she walked behind us and I looked away and thought the interaction was over. Next thing I know, she's run back over to us, picked up a rock and it's sailing through the air at me. It didn't hit either of us, but it was well-aimed and the message was pretty clear. My friend fell over laughing while I sat there wondering how I must look to be deemed deserving of a stoning by a toddler.


I think I need to start a special section here, called Fun With Strangers. I had a special kind of day yesterday. I have them periodically, and I never know exactly why. They are days when strangers seem to smile at me a lot more and people seem to interact with me with unusual kindness. I'm not sure if it's as simple as being in a good mood, and having other people reflect that back at you. I don't think so. I think there's something else. Maybe I'm wearing something particularly colorful. I've never kept track. The point is that is makes me feel so good, like I'm glowing somehow. Especially if I'm not having a good day to begin with. So in honor of this phenomenon, I'm going to work on smiling at strangers, and keeping track of the best smiles I've received.

A list (remember, two constitutes a list):

#1 - When I was home in Minnesota a little before Christmas, I went to a mall with my younger sisters. They're 14 and 15. I did not want to be at that mall, so they went off by themselves to shop and I walked around listening to music and feeling misanthropic. I was surrounded by hordes of teenagers and they were, to be honest, grossing me out. As was the mall in general.* And so I was listening to Westfall by Okkervil River pretty loud on my headphones. The song is about killing a teenage girl and not really feeling any remorse. It's kind of intense and I was completely digging it at that moment. Like, there must have been a pretty serious groove in my walk, because a big burly security guard walked past me, and gave me a big smile and a thumbs up. And I smiled back, and all of my misanthropy melted.

#2 - Also involves music. I might have even been listening to the same cd. I was on a subway fairly late at night and in my car was an accordian player. I could tell he was good, and even though I had my headphones on, it made me really happy that he was playing. I was kind of keeping my eye on him and watching as he moved down the car. When he got all the way to the other end, I caught his eye and smiled, and he smiled right back, big enough to see all the way from the other end of the car. I felt like something had been accomplished, and there was nothing more to say.


*I am not averse to mass culture on principle and I tend to disdain those who are. I immensely enjoy the occasional quarter pounder with cheese, Twinkie, soap opera, celebrity magazine, summer blockbuster, etc. And to believe that these types of things are the downfall of our culture is to take them far too seriously. However, on this particular day, I absolutely did not want to be surrounded by commerce and hormonal teenagers.