When I was growing up, my grandpa used to embarrass me. I loved him dearly, but he would strike up conversations with strangers, and as a teenager I thought it was mortifying. I still felt that way when I was in college. He taught at BYU, so he could get me a nice discount on my books if I took him with me to the bookstore, but I always had an "Is this worth it?" moment in my head when he would go around asking the other students where they were from and what they're major was.
Now I think it's endearing. And maybe there's something to this conversation-with-strangers thing. I don't think I'll ever be as outgoing as my grandfather, but I had fun talking to a stranger today. I was in a waiting room, about to get my foot x-rayed (another story for another day), when an elderly woman struck up a conversation with me:
Little Old Lady, seeing my crutches and my foot in a boot: Oh, you poor dear! How did you do that?
Me: Running.
Little Old Lady: Were you training for a race?
Me: Yes, a half marathon.
Little Old Lady: My granddaughter runs lots of races. She doesn't do the 26 one, but she does the 13 one.
Me: That's what I was training for. A half marathon is 13 miles.
Little Old Lady: Then you must know my granddaughter! Kim Flenderson?
Me, trying not to smile too broadly: No, I don't think I've met her.
If I could be guaranteed fun conversations like this, I would totally start embarrassing my kids.
Now I think it's endearing. And maybe there's something to this conversation-with-strangers thing. I don't think I'll ever be as outgoing as my grandfather, but I had fun talking to a stranger today. I was in a waiting room, about to get my foot x-rayed (another story for another day), when an elderly woman struck up a conversation with me:
Little Old Lady, seeing my crutches and my foot in a boot: Oh, you poor dear! How did you do that?
Me: Running.
Little Old Lady: Were you training for a race?
Me: Yes, a half marathon.
Little Old Lady: My granddaughter runs lots of races. She doesn't do the 26 one, but she does the 13 one.
Me: That's what I was training for. A half marathon is 13 miles.
Little Old Lady: Then you must know my granddaughter! Kim Flenderson?
Me, trying not to smile too broadly: No, I don't think I've met her.
If I could be guaranteed fun conversations like this, I would totally start embarrassing my kids.
