Random Social Encounter

So, I had another funny bit of college nostalgia light up the tired recesses of my mind at some point yesterday. Or maybe last night. Perhaps in the wee hours of the morning... in any case, I remembered it in the bathroom and it made me giggle.

For a little background, I remember it was at some sort of International event at BYU-Idaho, a dinner with the various cultural groups performing demonstrations of what they did in their clubs. The Russian Association were dressed in white and gold and did a dance-- I recognized a few members from Russian 101 there. That was a tight class, by the way. It was only due to meeting my friend David in that class that I was there at all. I'd seen him on a Saturday and he had pulled me into the Capoeira group. I was terrible at Capoeira, but it was so much fun, so I'd shown up with the other crazily amazing Capoeiristas, representing Brazil. Since it was a martial art/dance/game, to stay warmed up while we waited to perform, we were bouncing and cartwheeling around the lobby. (Well, we'd do that anyway. No one quite goofs off like a group of Capoeiristas.) Around us were members of the Japanese group with their white and red flag of the sun, and some other countries that have blurred in my memory. While catching my breath, I saw an Asian guy sitting in a chair lining the 2nd floor wall, and, in my bubbly mood, decided to accost him.

I asked him if he spoke Japanese. I'd loved the language ever since my brothers had shown me "Advent Children." He replied that he didn't. Right then, my friend David landed a cartwheel nearby, and I, as if it was some terrible shock, said, "David, this guy doesn't speak Japanese!"

My wonderful, quick-witted friend immediately responded with a mock frown, "I'm offended!" and bounded off again.

"I do speak Chinese," the poor Asian guy said.

"Oh, that's cool," I think I said, and sat down next to him. We had a friendly conversation, where I found out that one of his parents was from China, and he was majoring in Art, as an illustrator. So that was fun. A nice random encounter, and not without a sequel. I met him again some time later in Tomassito's.

Again, some background-- Tomassito's was a splendid little restaurant on the bottom floor of the Manwaring Center, the bottom floor of the same building as before, tucked away in a corner of the food court. I loved it. The dining room was so small that even if you were sitting alone, you were still sitting near other people. And even if you didn't share a table, the walls were mirrored so you could at least watch other people. That might sound creepy, but it was a wonderful place to be social. And the food was cheap. A lot of my lunches were just a little more than a dollar for a mini loaf with honey butter.

Well, I was probably scarfing down one of those mini loaves, when we happened to make eye contact as he sat down at a table really close to mine. We smiled at one another, as most students did back then, and then I was struck with the awkwardness of realizing how odd I must look, smiling with my mouth full. Cheeks bulging, crooked smile. After swallowing, I turned to his table and said, "You know how awkward it is when you see someone while you're eating, and then they smile at you, so you smile back, but your mouth is full, so you know you look weird? I mean, what can you do? I don't want to not smile." He just laughed. He nodded in a friendly fashion as I hurried off to class, but totally thought I was crazy. He had just happened to catch me twice when I had no problem blurting out exactly what was on my mind.

Later on, my roommate's boyfriend AJ told me that he worked with someone who'd met me-- apparently this same Asian guy, whose name I may have learned but don't remember. I don't know how I came up in their conversation, but when AJ told him that I was probably the most normal of all his girlfriend's roommates, this Asian guy looked horrified, and said, "Her?! The most normal???" 

That was the end of our story: myself and the Asian artist who was half Chinese and had interesting hair. I was much less reserved as a freshman in college, perhaps because I was anxious to make those college buddies I'd always wanted, or perhaps because only three people knew me there when I started out, and I had nothing to lose by a little embarrassment. Well, I've done plenty of stupid things. Appalling a random guy with my weirdness is nothing to regret.