I met a relative stranger today. We were waiting for our numbers to be called as we sat in our local pizza parlor. She was the short woman with black hair and thick black glasses. She looked over at me briefly and said, “Hello.”
“Hi,” I replied. “How are you?”
“I’m good. How are you today?”
“Good.”
I recognized her as one of the regulars. There were four of us. And although we never formally knew one another, we always acknowledged each other with a nod or a smile. It was our camaraderie in an unspoken form. The two of us were in a corner together, tucked away from the larger crowd of complete strangers. She and I waited intently; our ears honed against the cacophony of business.
“What’s your name?” she asked, breaking our unspoken code again. I was to blame for breaking it the first time.
“Tyler,” I answered.
“How old are you?”
“I’m in my thirties.”
“Are you married?”
“No.”
“That’s cool.”
Then the dialogue stopped. I didn’t know what to say. I felt awkward, as if I were watching a video of a stranger in my house. I peered over at her. I examined her hair, her glasses, the clothing she wore. She looked ten years younger than me. And I began to make judgements, to wonder about her character and her sanity. Silence had given the four of us a convenient friendship, an unbiased, unmitigated social pattern. Now two of us were in the midst of changing all this.
“Does she like me?” I wondered. “Is she married?” Why would she ask something so forward when we’ve never spoken? It’s usually “how are you” and “nice weather we’re having.” I was perturbed that I couldn’t strike back, ask the same type of questions as she had.
My number was called. I stood up.
“Have a good evening,” I said to her.
“You do the same.”
Our eyes caught each others for a brief second before she turned her gaze to the front door. We didn’t exchange the time-honored smiles. I couldn’t prove it, but I thought she feigned disinterest. Had she discovered something about me that she didn’t like? I left, feeling certain that we would never speak again. We might see one another at the pizza parlor, but the four of us would never be the same.
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