A few days ago, in the midst of some serious munchies, I got adventurous and decided to finally check out an eating place I had been hearing great things about...a gastro park in Tijuana. I drove to a trolley station, got my ticket, and minutes later I was on the trolley headed to the U.S.A-Mexico border.
It started out quiet but several stops down the line things changed. A rough looking younger guy got on the trolley, clearly out of his mind on some sort of drug, the withdrawal from some sort of drug, or perhaps having an intense religious experience - like mid-exorcism - or maybe he was just a dirty, angry, maskless, young man plagued with both Tourette's and unpleasant body odor but I digress. He was ranting and cussing away while pacing the length of the aisle as if it were a stage - or cage. The ranting and pacing went on for a while (in uncomfortable public transit time, that is...in real time it was probably 3 minutes of half a dialogue peppered with a smidge of manifesto). As he paced, he passed many empty seats...many, many empty seats...before sitting down directly across from - and facing - me. I looked at him, he looked at me. I nodded and asked 'hi, how're you?" He didn't reply but moments later he continued arguing with himself which went on for a stop or two and eventually calmed down to a soft mumble for the remainder of the ride. I didn't try to initiate a conversation with the guy but we did make eye contact, exchange nods, and hold each other's gaze in a friendly sort of way several times.
When the trolley arrived at the border, the guy got up and hurriedly made his way out the door and walked away while continuing to rant, cuss and do his thing. As I left the trolley and walked toward the border crossing, I was reflecting on the events and realizing what a compliment it was that the smelly little fellow with issues decided to sit across from me. I mean, the dude was clearly losing his shit and he chose to sit across from (and facing) me despite the fact that there were plenty of other seating options from which he could choose. He chose to sit by me and I'm sure he had his reasons. I just enjoyed the unexpected companionship on the ride.
Who would you sit next to if you were losing your shit on the public transit? I mean, besides me. I seem to be the first choice of many, though I suppose it's not something that one plans in advance. I feel profoundly honored and privileged to have been this guy's go-to guy if only for a brief moment in time.
Oh, since I brought it up, the gastro park was amazeballs.
Is there a moral to this story?
No, sometimes a story is just a story. This is one of those times.