|||||Cirque du Soleil - «O»||]|
I went to go see someone play the harp tonight, but apparently
she is out of town. Did have an interesting experience on the
way back, though.
At one of the
a month or two ago, I happened to overhear an extraordinarily
attractive woman mention that she plays harp at a coffeehouse
every Saturday night. I meant to go that very week, but of
course I put it off. Not having anything else to do this
weekend, I thought I’d go tonight.
The Kensington Coffee House is very cute, and they do have
a great selection of munchies, coffees, and teas. My original
plan had been to stop by the North Park location of Ranchos
Concina for dinner, but my nap took priority. The harpist
usually starts at 20:00; I got there a few minutes early and
had their veggie lasagna and mint tea — pretty yummy!
Well, 20:00 rolls around, and no harpist. I wait another
half-hour, mostly looking through the
catalog. When she still hadn’t arrived by 20:30,
I decided it was a lost cause and took off.
On the way back to my car, a girl walking the other way asked
me if I had seen the
Route 11 bus
recently. I hadn’t, but I asked here where she was
headed anyway. When she said “downtown”, I thought
I’d offer her a ride, as my apartment is more or less on
the far side of Downtown from Kensington.
It was a genuine offer, but I didn’t think that
she’d feel comfortable enough to accept it. She asked
me if I were a murderer, and I think I responded with
“Nah... I haven’t killed anyone in months.”
I was somewhat surprised when she did accept the offer.
I am not over in that part of town much, so I had no idea
what the best route back to downtown was from there. On the
way, I only made one particularly stupid driving maneuver;
I did miss the more efficient directions, though. *shrug*
It turns out that she even knows the harpist whom I wanted
to see; the latter is out of town for the weekend. We had
a nice conversation, although it was a bit stilted the entire
time — probably some combination of her going
“what if he is a sociopath?” and me going
“uhh... cute girl, uh, what do I say, uh...”
We did talk a bit about the local arts scene, although I was
so befuddled (while simultaneously trying to impress her, both
with an attempt at interesting conversation and by driving
competently) that it probably wasn’t particularly fluid.
One amusing happenstance was that she is applying to
in Boulder, Colorado; having lived in that general area for
six years, I could tell her how nice it is (“... plus,
coming there from San Diego, it won’t even seem
expensive to you!”) Anyway, I wish her luck; it really
is a great place to live, and I’ve heard only good
(if occasionally wacky) things about the school.
She was headed downtown to meet up with someone and write a
part of her application to the school. I dropped her off at
a store she needed to stop by first (after a bit of driving
around to find it). She seemed grateful, and I hope I made
her evening easier (and not scarier).
So... as a 6'4", 240 lbs (192 cm, 110 kg) bloke, I felt
pretty comfortable in offering her a ride — but I
honestly expected her to decline, for entirely rational
and valid reasons. This might be another case of me
“seeming trustworthy”... but I don’t
know. I’m not even particularly flattered, as
there is nothing to distinguish me from any anyone else
in this situation (except maybe a sensible car and
non-flashy clothes, dunno).
And I do feel good that I could help someone out. Yes,
it was certainly influenced by her being cute; but it is
so ingrained for us to distrust strangers, especially
strangers offering favors, that I’m startled by
my offering, her accepting, and the entirely non-dramatic