Before the memories fade, I’d like to briefly record some memories of the new people I met over the past three weeks. This is my best idea for preserving the moments; scenic vistas can be photographed, but social interactions cannot.
- Dylan, who said, “There’s a severe earthquake forecast for next Monday.”
- Rose, who a moment later asked, “Did you say the earthquake on Monday won’t be too severe?”
- Lucy, who said “Sorry” when I told her I had been to Northampton.
- The guy who sat next to me at a TL bus stop, rolled a joint, then called someone and said “Want to buy some drugs? I need money for food.”
- The guy at the hostel who explained he chooses his diet based on his blood type and is looking for work as a life coach and/or arranging furniture.
- The Canadian girl at the CouchSurfing mixer who appeared amorous with multiple guys.
- Emmanuel, the IT consultant and CouchSurfer who moved to Norway without mentioning it to his Pennsylvanian clients, whom he continued to work for.
- Tony, the Japanese/Peruvian guy at the CouchSurfing mixer who knew the sheriff in my grandparent’s village in Michigan, population 534.
- Jitka, the CouchSurfing nuclear physicist.
- Lewis, who borrowed my computer for the longest 20 minutes ever.
- Helen, who seems nearly perfect.
- Aarani, who works in M&A but not M&A and lived in the same part of London I did.
- Jo, who told the Ugandan police, “OK, I’ll pay the bribe. Just wait here while I go get the money,” and got away with it.
- Guy at the bike rental who told me to find the tall, bearded Jewish guy at Zingerman’s Deli and tell him, “Chicago Joe says Hi”.
- Ross, who I think owes me for the bike rental and needs to e-mail me my photos from the ride
- Gustavo, the Colombian who saved for three years to study briefly in America and dreams of organizing stevia production.
- Ida, whose answer to “How do you know Hally?” was “Happy hour”. Because I was surprised by her answer, she proceeded to explain that happy hour was a time in the evening with drink specials.
- SF local eager to hang on the side of the cable car. I said, “I hear it’s best on standing on the side,” and she responded, “It’s better on your back.”
- The cable car driver who, based on appearance, probably arrived in San Francisco during the gold rush.
- Girl with nosering, the abstract painter turned sculptor turned social practicer turned experimental documentary filmmaker who manages to find subjects weirder than herself: a couple that met when the girl called a suicide hotline, drove the first counselor to quit, and ended up in a relationship with the second counselor!
- Gregory, new CouchSurfer, swim teacher to disabled children, concert poster collector, fascinated by the Golden Gate and its jumpers
- Stephen, the nomad, whose friends have a pool going on how long he’ll last in his new job as tour guide.
- John, day trader, former retail stockbroker, former operator of a methadone clinic, former drug dealer.
- Corinna, the Jehovah’s Witness bartender from Mexico who is going to explain the blood transfusion doctrine without relying on the Old Testament. (Unless she recants on her opposition to stoning adulterers.)
I am writing this mainly so I can jog my memory after the memories fade over time, but I hope others may find some amusement from reading the list.