Have you noticed that I meet a lot of strangers? People always talk to me on the street. As I said in the Kindred post, Fox says it’s because they look at my face and know that I’ll respond. Maybe that’s true. I’m always surprised when people talk to me. At the same time, how can I be surprised when people talk to me all the time? It’s possible that Fox is right, that I have ‘one of those faces,’ but I think there has to be more than that going on.
On the train, the fire-and-brimstone proselytizers come ranting through the cars and they always make a bee line for me. Do I look like a lost lamb in need of saving or a woman who’s already slipped from the right path?
One night, heading downtown on a near-empty A-train, a dangerous-looking guy explodes into the car at 125th Street, looks up, looks down, comes to sit right beside me — right up against me, actually. I looked at him. “Yes,” he said. “This car has a lot of space, but I’m going to sit with you.” Um … ok.
Over and over, people seem to be looking specifically for me. I don’t really know what that’s about. Maybe I do have ‘one of those faces’ … or some weird magnetism … something. My mother and Fox have what I like call a ‘face of beligerence’ when they are on the street. They are both lovely women. No question. But people do not approach them on the street and strike up casual or weird conversation. They see something in that expression that tells them to chat up the next person who passes by. Sometimes I wish I had one, a face of beligerence. But then I’d miss the wildly random interactions I get to have with strangers.