connections

I run down the street, without a coat and with a video camera in hand. I am in a mess of a rush to get inside where it's warmer. A gentleman a block away laughs at me. He says, "It's cold. Run, run!" We exchange words from several yards away for no more than two minutes. A minute later, he's gone, across the street. He leaves with my first name. I stand with his card in my hand. His name is Michael.

I love encounters with strangers. I doubt I'll do anything with his card. Maybe put it in a file with the hundreds and hundreds of other business cards I've collected. Now, I sit and wonder what he wanted. He said he used to shoot video. Then he told me he does "property stuff." Next, the card appeared in my hand.

I literally stand there for a second or two wondering, "What did this Michael want?" I consider the possibilities: a date, a job, a friend, nothing at all. Does it matter now?

Connections. I love to make them. Some day I'd like to set a goal to introduce myself to a stranger every day for a year. I could blog about it, maybe even photograph the strangers. Maybe I'd make some friends along the way. Perhaps I could publish a book, call it 365 strangers.

I glance down at the card again. His street address catches my eye. We live on the same street, about two miles from each other but connected by the same north-south line.