I'm not a betting man.
I once tried my luck at blackjack while vacationing in the Bahamas and lost 40 dollars on the first hand. For some reason after that I never really found the process to be very alluring. Go figure.
However, had I been forced to bet on how the first day of this little experiment would go, I would certainly not have placed my money on what wound up happening.
I started off my day planning to get the first conversation out of the way as soon as possible. After lifting, I went to Breugger's Bagels for some breakfast. It was here I figured I'd have my first opportunity, either with someone else in line or one of the sandwich makers. Standing in line, I found myself thinking more about what I was going to say rather than what I was going to eat. This led to an awkward moment when the impatient man behind the counter with a voice that projected surprisingly well asked in a monotone manner, "HEY WHAT CAN I GET YOU?"
I simply stood there for a moment and panicked, scanning the entire menu in one sweep. A thousand words flashed in front of my eyes at once. Instead of getting a normal breakfast sandwich or a bagel, I somehow defaulted to a chipotle turkey club. I don't think I'd ever even tasted chipotle in my life before this morning, and here I was ordering it at 8 am like some kind of barbarian with no regard for the rules of breakfast.
"WHAT KIND OF BREAD WOULD YOU LIKE IT ON?" asked the worker.
"Hmm..just normal..white..bread.." I stuttered, still pondering why the hell I was ordering a southwest styled turkey sandwich instead of going for a muffin like every other normal person on earth. The worker just stared at me for a moment, and grabbed the wheat bread. Apparently I ordered it wrong. It was at this point I decided I'd parlay my first conversation until the bus stop.
The sandwich was pretty good, though.
So far, my cards weren't looking all too well. I'd gotten a 2-7 offsuit and a terrible flop at Breuger's Bagels. I needed a good 'turn.'
It was at this point I figured I'd end up having a conversation with one of the Indian foreign exchange students in my apartment complex. Every morning I stand at the bus stop surrounded by Indians, like a white dot on a brown page. They always seem friendly enough to each other, so I assumed this would be pretty easy. I'd talk about how long the bus was taking, ask a few questions, and be done for the day!
Sure enough, as I was walking out to the bus stop, a young Indian man came running out of his apartment. As we were both crossing the street, I looked at him, preparing to ask him what his thoughts were on eating lunch food for breakfast, when I saw the 'turn.' He was wearing headphones.
Ouch.
I walked onto the bus, a bit disappointed that my brilliant bus-stop plan had failed so miserably. At this point, a poker player would fold his hand. He'd see he simply didn't have the cards to win, and would jump in on the next pot. I was certainly prepared to do that. Maybe try again with someone after work, when people are awake, not making sandwiches or listening to music.
But then I sat down on the bus and saw my card.
Correction, my cards fan.
Like a gift from above, somehow, for the first time since coming to North Carolina, a Cardinals fan was on my bus. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. There, right across from me, a young man donning a shirt with those beautiful birds on the bats. Without hesitation I asked him if he was from St. Louis. He looked up, surprised that someone was speaking before 9 am, and probably guessed by my stupid overly-delighted smile that St. Louis was dear to me. "Sure am! I take it you're a cardinals fan?" he said.
"Of course!" I said "Are you excited for the season?"
"Yeah, but I'm going to a red hot chili peppers concert on opening day, so I'll have to tape it."
We chit-chatted about the upcoming season. How things look without Carpenter and Pujols. How we will probably win the division anyways, and how exciting it was to win the world series last year.
The conversation soon got silent, and I figured that was all I was going to get out of him. Then, to my surprise he asked "What brings you to Raleigh?"
I told him I was studying atmospheric science, and he told me he was getting his Phd in industrial engineering. Then he told me about how his really good friend was studying meteorology, and just got back from a year in Alaska.
It was at this moment that the bus had gotten to my stop. Caught up in my own excitement and full of incredulity at the fact that on the first day of my plan to talk to a new person for a month that I found a Cardinals fan with a best friend in meteorology, I uttered some kind of mix between "cyah around," "go cardinals, "and "good luck in IE school."
I think it came out something like "cyah Care-dinals yeah!"
So there you have it. On day one, I run into a Cardinals fan from St. Louis, with a close connection to meteorology.
At first I thought this was a one in a million type of situation. How many times could something like this happen?
But then I realized that this was also the first time that I'd even tried speaking to someone on the bus. Every other day I've simply sat there silently, like a poker player that folds his hand before the final card is shown. The one time I stayed in the game, and took a risk, I got a great result.
The next time you're around a group of people, don't fold your hand! Make that bet! Speak up and say "hello."
I'm guessing the cards will end up in your favor.
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