For a long time I've been fascinated by how people interact, some may say that this is unoriginal or that it is pointless but I figured since it has been on my mind for a long time I would start to 'document' my experiences. I have pondered over this for a few years in other forms, mainly by asking annoying questions which involve some of the elements that 'Moments with strangers' uses. Examples of these are when I, in the past, have made comments about how people share their experiences with people that they don't know. If all is private then when on a night out do you not go into a bar if there are few people? If your night out is to be with your friends surely going to an empty establishment will suffice? It is my 'fascination' with our 'need' to be around and share moments with people that we class as strangers that has lead me to creating this blog. Please note that the postings on this blog are of my own experience unless otherwise stated, the dates that I have posted are not the date in which the experience was... experienced.
A child is walking though the bus station with his mother kicking what appears to be a plastic spoon discarded by, with the essence of probability behind it, an uncaring fool unable to see the bins provided. He kicks it as if he is playing football expelling “char” sounds and punching both of his arms into the air as he makes contact with the discarded item. A tall guy in red skinny jeans, watches as the child and his spoon approach. The spoon, when kicked with the 5 year-olds force slides across the floor; decelerating it manages to position itself between what appears to be bow legs belonging to the guy in the Red jeans. He looks in my direction with his eyebrows and lips pursed looking quite confused though also having a slight scowl to his expression. I find this face humorous in this ‘pose’ and open my mouth to make a silent laugh. He smiles to me and raises his bottom lip as if to ask whether he should kick the spoon in the path of the child in order for it to proceed with its ‘game’. The child begins to run toward the rubbish moving his arms exaggeratedly mouthing “char-char” as he moves. His mother, carrying shopping bags and his school bag shouts for him to leave the spoon alone. She is loud and brash causing me to sit straight in my seat as she calls to him. The boy stops and waits for her to pass him; he then kicks the spoon from between the guy’s legs and continues to kick it behind his parent’s back. Most people at the stop look to each other raising their eyebrows, I look to the skinny jean wearer and smile, he says “Crafty get” and I nod. We part eye contact and wait for the bus to come.