All you have to say is “Hi”

“I used to feel so alone in the city. All those gazillions of people and then me, on the outside. Because how do you meet a new person? I was very stumped by this for many years. And then I realized, you just say “hi.” They may ignore you. Or you may marry them. And that possibility is worth that one word.”~ Augusten Burroughs

First and foremost, I love Augusten Burroughs. He is one of my most favorite reads EVER and I thoroughly enjoy that he is quote #141 on Starbucks cups.

I spent a lazy weekend day hanging out with just myself. I ate brunch by myself at Gemma and wandered the lower East Side, window shopping and people watching, alone. I went to the New Museum checking out the larger than life sculptures by Marguerite de Ponty, watching the performance video created by Young Whan Bae, and stood outside the Sky room taking in the lovely sunset. I think part of the happiness I have in my life, is having finally gotten to a point where I’m totally okay being completely alone from time to time.

I ended up at the Union Square Barnes and Noble. It was cold outside so I decided to warm myself up with a cup of hot tea from Starbucks before I started wandering the stacks for a new book. I stood and stared blankly at the tea containers on the counter. They weren’t the usual Tazo tea boxes I’m used to. These were sleek metal containers with teas flavored with chai and ginger and coconut. After I let a few people pass me in line because I couldn’t decide, I sensed someone to my right looking at the same little set of teas as I was. I looked up and at the person and said,

“Hi. Do you know which tea you’re going to get?”

I used to be terrified of talking to strangers, especially when I first moved to New York. It was a slow process to get over this fear, most of it was forced upon me because I often got lost and would have to rely on the kindness of strangers to direct me in the right direction.

When I’m in a good mood, and totally content with being alone, that’s when I feel the least bit intimidated by just striking up a conversation with strangers. That’s also probably when I’m the most approachable as well.

The person was a tall dark haired guy with a slightly larger frame. He didn’t strike me as attractive but there was just something really kind about his persona. He smiled and admitted that he had no idea what to get. A conversation about choices ensued. We ended up ordering the same tea (which I can not for the life of me remember because the memory of our time together takes greater precedence than what I had to drink).

He held a Lonely Planet Guide to Argentina which allowed for me to easily continue the conversation after we each got our order.

“I’m traveling to Argentina for three weeks. I’m leaving at the end of the week and I’m going to study tango and just take a bunch of pictures. I don’t really have a plan.”

“Oh, that sounds like a lot of fun!” We were both standing side by side and looking out at the crowded little seating area looking for a place to sit. I was trying to figure out if I wanted to continue the conversation or if I wanted to end it.

“Hey, do you want to find some place to…just sit and talk?” He leaned a little bit closer to me as he said this and I could smell the freshness of his clean shirt.

“Sure.”

..and that’s how we ended up sitting on the floor in a corner of the literature section, talking 3 hours until we were kicked out at closing.

He made me laugh and I almost made him spit out his tea. He shared stories of his travels to India, of his work in the medical world, of his lack of respect for capitalized letters… He quoted authors and poets. He asked me about architecture and vegetarianism. He asked endless questions about my travels and impressions of the world. He encouraged me to take up dance classes again.

He gave me his number and told me that he would really like to hang out again after he gets back from Argentina since it didn’t look like there was much time to go on a date before he left for his adventure. I saved his number in my phone and looked up at him to say goodbye. He was smiling down at me and in that moment he looked so warm and inviting and nice and intelligent and charming that I nearly knocked him over with the force of me throwing myself at him in a tight hug. Yeah, I don’t really know why I did that. It was like a little kid saying goodbye to Santa Claus. It could’ve been awkward, but he hugged back and let me be the one to release.

“I really enjoyed meeting you. If I don’t see you before you leave, have fun. I’ll give you a call, in about 3 weeks right?” How had I not noticed how cute he was until we were saying goodbye?

“Yeah, it was a good night. All because you didn’t know which tea you wanted.” He smiled broader and I felt a little tickle at the back of my neck.

I thought about him the whole next day at work. I looked up the places he had traveled to and could perfectly recall his harrowing stories about the traffic and odd looking meals. Three weeks? Did I really have to wait three weeks before I could talk to him again?

I usually wait. I’m usually patient. I called him anyways and invited him to dinner in two hours and apologized for the last minute invitation.

He accepted.

We met at Barking Dog and closed the place down talking and laughing.

He had brought me a catalogue for a YMCA. The page with the dance classes listed was folded at the corner for me.

He walked me to the subway station.

He kissed me on the cheek (such a gentleman!!!) goodnight and we held each other in a hug until we could hear the train coming and I had to rush through the turnstile and down the stairs to catch it.

He’s in Argentina with my e-mail address…and so I wait. I am usually patient.