Small World 4 - Nice Ass

I’m on break, and I run out to go to the GNC to maybe buy some vitamins. I don’t really believe in vitamin supplements (studies disagree on whether or not they provide any health benefit), but lately I’ve been taking them in sort of a Pascal’s Wager sort of way. I get to the GNC and the only multivitamin for men that they have is called MegaMen. I read the label. I’m sorry I don’t need 3333% of my USRDA of anything. That shit’ll blow out your kidneys.

I move on. I have enough time to run to the ATM and deposit a couple checks. I’m looking forward to using the new BofA ATM’s that scan in your checks and look like brothels. As I’m walking, I see a woman standing with her back to me smoking with a couple guys.

Yes, I am in a happy loving relationship, but I can still appreciate the silhouette of an attractive woman. Perhaps the momentary flutter of a thought was more crudely worded in my head, but that is why these thoughts remain silent.

When I get to the corner to cross the street I look over, and the woman in question was my friend Gwen!

So I go back over to her and say “hi” and “I just walked by you and thought ‘she has a nice ass’ and then got to the corner and looked back and it was you!” because if there’s anyone I know I can say that to who will not think it strange and appreciate it as funny, it’s Gwen.

She laughed.

Small World 3 - sort of

I’ve blogged before about my fondness for Neil Gaiman. I’ve also mentioned my new friend Laurie who’s in Un-Scripted’s Theater: The Musical and how I met someone from my hometown at her birthday party.

Turns out that Laurie is old friends with Neil Gaiman’s son Mike! He’s local to the Bay Area and will be coming to our show at some point. Mike, not Neil.

Now I just need to figure out how to use this somehow to my advantage. Of course, with my luck, Mike will come to the show the same weekend I’m down in L.A. at BEA stalking Neil. Did I say “stalking”? I meant going to the Children’s Author Breakfast and waiting in long lines for him to sign books and trying to corner him so I can ask “How are the bees?” and “Will you read my book and give me advice?”

That’s not “stalking” is it?

Small World Too

Saturday afternoon I went to my friend Laurie’s birthday party in Golden Gate Park. I’ve really just met Laurie. She’s in current Un-Scripted show Theater: The Musical, but she’s super cool and I wanted to go to her party.

I arrive at about the same time as a large clump of people. As Laurie’s doing the introductions, Jess, who looks awfully familiar, says “You look really familiar. Did you come see Money & Run at Impact?”


I did! She played Money (or was it Run? She played the girl of the duo). Not only strange that she would have recognized me from the audience, but my girlfriend Diana happens to be the production manager of Impact Theatre. The two had never met, since the one rehearsal Diana attended, Jess missed. Small world, right?

Well, a little later I overheard her say something about “back home in Illinois.” Being from Illinois myself originally I asked where she grew up. She said “a suburb of Chicago.”

Being from a suburb of Chicago myself I asked which one. She said “Downers Grove.”

“I’m from Downers Grove. I grew up a few blocks from Downers North High School.”

“I grew up a few blocks from North!” she says. “On Grant Street right near the stoplight in front of the high school.”

She grew up, literally around the corner from me. She used to hang out at the Omega in high school just like I did. Now, she’s probably about 10 years my junior, so it’s no surprise we never crossed paths. Her family went to St. Mary’s while mine went to St. Joe’s, eliminating any chance of knowing each other from church or grade school. She also, quite sensibly, went to North. I went many miles away to Benet. Why? Dunno. North was a perfectly good high school.

BUT WHAT THE HELL?!? What are the odds? We were practically neighbors. And yet, somehow that’s just how the world works for me.

It's a Small World

I run into people. It’s just something I do. Today, I ran into a friend of mine who now works in a building a half block away. Monday I ran into 3 people I used to work with at the Bank of Opportunity. One on the train on the way to work in the morning and the other two in my neighborhood that night.

Those examples might not be so mind-blowing. After all, the one guy does ride the same train as me to work. The one girl does live a couple blocks away. But I’ve run into people in stranger places. I’ve gone to plays only to find an old friend I hadn’t seen in years sitting in my seat. I used to run into a guy I knew who lived in Anchorage on the streets of Berkeley all the time. I’ve been sitting on the steps of Santa Croce in Florence writing in my journal only to look up and see a friend from college walking by. I’ve returned to my hostel after a long rainy day of seeing sights in Istanbul only to find two friends staying in my same room.

And those are just a handful of examples.

I run into people. It’s just something I do. I’ve long ago come to accept it as a natural occurrence. Running into someone like that always leaves me with a sense of feeling really in touch with the universe. Yes, I know, I’ve lived in Northern California too long, but seriously, I always feel like in that moment I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. Think of all the little tiny decisions that could have prevented any of those accidental brushes with friends. I usually spend my lunch at my desk, but today I went outside to read instead. I happened to look up just as my friend walked by. I happened to sit right where I would see her when she walked by. She happened to take just that route, to decide to go to that coffee shop on her break, to take her break at that exact time.

I suppose in any random system like life, occasionally running into people is inevitable. I’ll even allow that anomalies are statistically inevitable. That people will exist, such as myself, who experience it more than others. I understand all this, and yet, I still can’t help but think I’m somehow more connected to people, or more open to things. I can’t help but think I’m somehow responsible.

Maybe not. Maybe it’s just me trying to feel special. We’ll see. Maybe I’ll run into you someday. After all, it’s something I do.