backdrop

Everybody has a story.

I think that's why I love talking to strangers, or rather strangers feel at ease when they strike up a conversation with me. I mean strangers, not acquaintances like that guy who knew your lab partner in your chemistry class and now every time he gets on the bus he kind of sits next to you, says what's up and then you guys embark in silence until one of you gets bored and puts on your earphones.

I have this interesting habit of talking to random strangers on the bus, waiting in the lobbies of buildings, or like today, at work. I was down in the basement of the hospital waiting near Human Resources because my paycheque got screwed up and they were waiting for the courier to drop off the new ones. I sat down in the waiting area across the hall next to some motherly-something year old lady dressed in nursing garb, you know those bright pink, floral pattern scrubs? I put my backpack down and crossed my legs the way guys do in anticipation for my cheque when she mumbled, "You here for your cheque too?"

I agreed and she mentioned that she had been waiting since 2 PM, and it was 3:30 PM, so I figured oh crap this might take a while so might as well have some lively conversation. We started talking about how the hospital is really good at making your timesheet messed up, and how it was going to be nice this weekend even though there were chances of thundershowers. Eventually she asked me what my job was and then I asked her what hers was and it turns out she was a physiotherapist in orthopedics! How fascinating! This conjured up a fantastic discussion about how physiotherapy is really weird now that it's a master's degree, and how she was the graduating class of 1979 or something and they were the first class to get the physiotherapy bachelor's degree rather than a diploma! There was a lot of ridicule at U of A's idea to trash the interview, and we discussed the detriment of not assessing an individual's social skills on the clinical work environment. She told me how her daughter had a 3.2 and wanted to go to physio but was absolutely astonished that the cutoffs are at least 3.71+ these days.

Eventually some Bermuda short clad baldy wearing a Metallica t-shirt appeared carrying an envelope and dropped them off at HR. We joked that he probably just came from the pub, celebrating an early Friday. We grabbed our respective cheques, then bid each other farewell. I didn't get her name nor did she get mine, but in this slice of time I got to hear a stranger's life story.

So then I dare you: Next time that old lady with seven missing teeth or the muscleman with the snake tattoo strikes up a conversation with you on the 17, chat them up. See if they have an interesting life story. You might be surprised.