Bus-Stop Encounters

I don't know what it is. When my friend HPC first pointed it out, I didn't believe her, but I've come to accept that it's true: people just walk up and talk to me.

I can't really explain it. I've been told that I'm intimidating-- really, honestly scary at times. And yet, if I'm standing in line at the grocery store, if I'm filling my car with gasoline, riding in an elevator or on an escalator, maybe browsing books in a store, just minding my business and strolling through the park, people seem compelled to talk to me.

At first, I thought this happened to everybody. If there's somebody else waiting at a counter in the cheesemonger, don't they make polite chit chat about how they just love orkney cheddar? Or if you're standing around on the train platform, make some dig about how public transportation is so unreliable? I mean, I never actually initiated any of these conversations, but I responded cordially and went about my business.

It turns out, apparently this is not the case.

For all this, I can't really explain the phenomenon. It just happens. Take today for example: I was perched at a bus stop on Union Street, the main drag through the city centre. It was around 7pm and I sat with my two bags of groceries and played around with my new mobile, trying to figure out how to change the ringtone. I still haven't figured it out, but in the meanwhile an elderly gent shuffled up and sat next to me, and asked me the time and if i was looking forward to my tea. he was kindly enough, with his pageboy cap and tweed jacket, and he walked with a cane, which I find automatically endearing. I said I was looking forward to fixing some supper, and he told me about how he'd been out for the day in Inverurie to visit his brother-in-law, and the two together had gone to visit yet another brother-in-law who is in hospital. Now, bear in mind that all of this information was completely unsolicited.

Now, I've got a Midwest accent that you can spot at a 150 yards, there's no denying it. Frankly, it grates on my own ears nowadays, and I don't really know how anybody can stand listening to me-- my own voice annoys me, let alone anybody else. And there's no pretending I'm from 'round these parts, either: my Scottish accent is still appalling, despite my best efforts. Le sigh. So when he asked where in America I was from, I wasn't all that surprised. I told him Michigan, and he began to tell me about how he knew where that was because he'd been driven in a military convoy along the Trans-Canadian Highway for his flight training out in British Columbia during WWII. He told me about taking the ship over, how they docked next to the Queen Mary, how he saw the Statue of Liberty for the first and only time at 4 in the morning, how women had laid out the best breakfast he's ever tasted on the docks upon their arrival, the fresh fruit, eggs and meat they had only dreamed about while on the steamer from Ireland. All the while, I smiled and nodded, laughed at the appropriate moments and genuinely marvelled at what he was telling me.

Telling me, a perfect stranger.

I guess it's the same way women hand me their infants while I'm working as a photographer's assistant. I even once had a woman thrust her newborn into my arms at the local grocers so she could have both hands free to paw through her purse in search of an elusive debit card. Who does that? People have handed me dogs on leashes as well, told me about their caring husbands, cancer scares, family vacations and housing plans. Mostly I just nod and smile, half-bemused and half-bewildered.

So, is it just me, or does this happen to you as well, my dear invisible readers? Do you have bus stop encounters with charming old gents who make you wish that your bus was five minutes late like it usually is?

While You Were Out...

Big changes upon which I will expound in due time (read: not now). Best to bust out the bullet points for this one, methinks!

• Got a new job on campus, that basically means I'm on campus every day, breathing the academic atmosphere and shifting my focus back away from shift work to intellectual work, despite the fact that I basically do office work. Regardless, it pays and it's fewer and better timed hours. Baby gets her evenings back! *woot woot*
• Quit the wine shop, which was good fun and good viniculture education, but not so related to my life as I want to be living it post-phd. That, and the basement where all the wine is stored had a ceiling so low that even I couldn't stand up straight. This is shocking if you know how tall I actually am in flat shoes. That, and hauling the cases of wine about was doing my back in on a repetitive basis.
• Came to the sad realization that I have an abusive landlord. This requires a whole backstory that I really don't have time to write at the moment, so I'll just leave it at this.
• Found a new flat! I'll be letting it from the parents of a friend, and it's b-e-a-utiful! The rent is a £100 more than I'm paying now per bedroom, and it's just a two bedroom place. This is a good thing because...
• A very dear friend of mine, let's call her Jen, is moving here from the US! YAY! She's basically fleeing the country, for many reasons I'm sure. But I've just secured a two bedroom apartment for us, and she arrives towards the end of October! And since it'll just be the two of us, no more sharing a bathroom among six people!! Exclaimation points for everyone!
• On the short list for providing a new home for a lovely pup-- Bonnie. She's a bonnie wee lass, an older Scottish Terrier who really needs a new family to love and adore her, but I need to double-check that the new landlords would be cool with having a fully-trained smallish dog in their flat. I really, really, really hope they are, as I've been wanting a dog for a while now.
• Booked my train tickets down to Bristol for this woman's wedding. I've not been that far south on this lovely island yet, so seeing the countryside from the train should be nice. However, it's going to take ELEVEN HOURS to get there. No joke. Even for me, that's a lot of countryside. Here's to hoping the train has wireless-- some of them do, so stop laughing.
• On the way back from the aforementioned wedding, I'm stopping in London. There are some bride's maids committments that I've got to fulfill on Saturday morning, and that means that I can't leave Bristol early enough to get back to the 'Deen the same day. So, it'll be Miss Melville in London: One Night Only! I'll be spending Saturday night in the fully capable care of Aplha, who's living down there nowadays, and crashing on her floor if there's any crashing to be had. I have a sneeking suspicion that we'll just stay out until she pours me back onto the train at Kings Cross and then I'll have 8 hours to sober up before changing in the Burgh of Edin. I'm anticipating carnage and shinanigans.
• My welcome and orientation meeting the the Ph.D. of DOOM is slated for the 25th. Holy shit.
• I get my own office. Or, at least a desk in a cupboard somewhere. They were a little hazy with the details. Regardless, I'm putting my name on the door, even if I have to whittle it there myself, Old Red-style.

I think that's about all for now. Needs must run to the mobile store to try to get someone explain to me why the new phone I bought is doing a fantastic impression of a rock.

Dissertation = Done.

It'll go to the bindery tomorrow, and is completely and totally out of my hands. I won't say that it's perfect, or the very best that I could have done, but I kinda maybe feel like it's good enough?

Whatever, it's over.