Hey, stranger

There have been several memorable times when I was far from my home territory, in a new place for the first time, and someone would ask me for directions. A carload of Italians in Paris. A Spaniard in Amsterdam. A Nebraskan in Manhattan…

It happened again today.

I was walking on the quay at Qualicum Beach on Vancouver Island. A couple in an Audi suddenly pulled up next to me and called out something unintelligible. I walked closer. “What?”

“Where is the Rotary Club Beach Center?”

They were in luck. I had just walked past the place a couple of moments before and noticed the patio was set up for a banquet. I pointed. “Right there.” I didn’t add, “With the big sign.”

“Oh! Thank you!” And off they went.

It was the same with the man in Amsterdam and the woman in New York City. I just happened to know. (I was no help for the Italians. I wasn’t even certain where I was.) It makes me wonder if there is some force in the universe telling lost people, “That guy knows.”  That voice might want to point me to people with the answers I seek, but it knows I’m too socially awkward to ever ask strangers. Hell, I have a hard enough time talking with people I know.