“I can’t leave you alone anywhere”

That’s what my wife said to me on Saturday. After a morning of chores, we visited an antique fair to check out the merchandise. I saw a beautiful corner cabinet. But, sadly, we have no empty corner to place it in. As we drove away empty-handed, she spotted friends having a yard sale. She asked me to stop, but for me to stay in the car—as her excuse for not staying long. I dropped her off then pulled down the street into a shaded parking spot.

As I sat there enjoying myself (I had great company, right? LOL), I noticed multiple sets of people coming and going. I wasn’t sure if I was witnessing a fundraising drive or perhaps religion going door-to-door. I made eye contact with one of the younger men and he decided to approach.

As I rolled down the window, four others joined us. It was religion. They were recruiting members for their Baptist church—if they had a high pressure spiel or wanted donations, they never got around to that. Their leader, an eloquent 30-something lady, said they wanted to offer a 10-second prayer for me. I asked them to pray instead for my son. It’s not that I’m beyond all hope, but he has a mild form of autism and I thought the prayer would be better directed his way—that he will someday have an easier time connecting to people and the world around him.

My wife walked up during the prayer, as I was holding hands with the lady and the young man. I could sense her amusement. Not about the prayer, about me talking to people. She thinks I’ll talk to anyone. As she got in the car she said, “I can’t leave you alone anywhere. Only you would find people to talk to when you’re sitting in a car!” I didn’t bother to point out they found me. She was having too much fun—reminiscing about the time I talked with 2 Jehovah’s Witnesses at our front door for an hour with a towel wrapped around my waist (I wanted to share info on Catholicism), the encyclopedia salesmen I gave sales advice (but no money), the German ambassador I gave encouragement (that’s a good subject for a separate post), and a few other instances.

As with the above examples, I’d estimate that 60% to 65% of my conversations with strangers are initiated by them—and not once have they offered me candy. (Yeah, I know that’s lame!!!)

So, do you talk with strangers??? Is that a change from the past? For me, it's funny to look back and remember in my youth my plan was to grow up to be a grumpy Mr. Wilson-type (from Dennis the Menace) and not talk to people.