Good morning! I hope the world is being good to you and you’re being good to it.

Grab your coffee or beverage of choice and share a thought with me!

You know those commercials about new homeowners becoming their parents? I hate that they’re based on truths. I find them hilarious, but the premise is terrifying. My parents are good people, and at the end of the line, I’d be lucky to have folks mention my good qualities because they almost entirely came from my parents. As I get older, however, I catch myself doing or saying something and immediately going, “That was my dad (or mom).” Typically, those moments are worth a brief laugh and a stern internal reminder to watch myself. One behavior I am miles from adopting, however, is the casual chat with a stranger.

My dad can talk to anyone, out of the blue, and he does. It’s not something he passed on to me. I will engage with others when necessary, but I’m never looking to have an extensive conversation unless I know the other person well. Sometimes, however, the necessity isn’t there, but I’ll be stuck in a situation with someone, a stranger, who shares my dad’s innate quality of conversation.

Picture this: small local cafe in an unfamiliar town, family has been on the go all day and is looking for a quiet place to relax and grab an overdue lunch, family group sits in the back of the cafe with one other person a table away. That’s us, the family, just to be clear. We are going about our business of getting seated and perusing the menu. This other gentleman and I had caught each other’s eyes (and it was fireworks – just kidding, absolutely not – remember, he’s a stranger) and exchanged a nod to acknowledge one another and that we come in peace. Unassuming me, however, did not realize the wheels I had just put in motion. As we are figuring out meals and drinks, I hear, “So do you have a cabin up here?”

I go cold. I know those words are addressed to me, but I hope in the pit of my soul that he’s talking to a waitress or anyone else. I look up, and we meet eyes again…still no fireworks. I sweat. I answer, “No, just staying in a hotel,” and to try not make my answer feel too clipped, add in something dumb like, “Nothing fancy.” There’s not an immediate response, but I know that’s not the end of it. My senses immediately pick up that I’ve seen and felt this situation before, have observed it somewhere many times. Oh no, he’s going to “dad” me.

“I’m doing some camping, trying to hit a few different spots.”

There it is.

“I’ve got an electric vehicle though and got too far out into the wilderness, got down to 10% and thought I was going to be stranded. Thankfully I ended up here, and now I’m just waiting for it to charge. Think your hotel has any vacancies?…”

We are now into full conversation territory and end up learning more about one another’s lives than was ever necessary. I answer his questions and ask a few back to keep things friendly and light but maintain a degree of anonymity. Eventually, he gets a notification that his charging is complete, and we are left to our lunch.

The experience reinforces that it is far odds I will ever be the person initiating that conversation. Once I was pulled into the conversational vortex, I wanted nothing more than to be extricated. I’m not against connecting with strangers, but it is not something I seek. I keep my circle tight. There is something to be said, however, about the quality of person who can start a conversation out of the blue with someone they don’t know. Here was a traveler who, as I found out, usually has a companion, so there was a certain desire, perhaps a longing, to establish some connection during their journey, even if it’s temporary. I suppose I’ll take it as a compliment that I project a demeanor worthy of striking up some casual chatter with a stranger.