I'm at a coffeehouse and a guy at another table just turned to me and said, "Do you ever feel so good that you feel like you're floating?"
If someone else asked me that question, like, anyone from the house party/rave I was at last night, I might make fun of them because you kmow how easily that question could be fueled by ecstasy, weed, and PBR. I mean, I'm actually pretty pleased that in this new year, I've already been to a makeshift club in a house where people hung handmade signs that said BEER 4 SALE IN THE KITCHEN and then sold us cups of PBR from a keg AND apologized for the high price (two for $5.00) but that doesn't mean I don't want to crack jokes about it. Neither were they embarrassed by the sign taped to the wall over their head: KEGSTANDS $1.00. God bless their hearts.
I also feel okay about the fact that after Matthew finished his DJ set on the "second stage" AKA the fifth floor living room, I searched for a bathroom and only found one lacking toilet paper so I wiped myself with a sponge from under the sink WHICH I THEN THREW AWAY. I'm sorry, I was desperate. And this is what went through my head after I was asked if I ever feel so good that I'm floating.
I answered evasively, mainly because I don't usually spill my beans to strangers but also because I was stuck on the verb floating. You gotta feel really good to float. Even when I have much to be thankful for and much to look forward to, do I float?
Then he says that he is feeling float-worthy good and wanted to share with someone he doesn't know to remind himself and a stranger that even though life is busy and distracting and difficult, we can change anything and be anything if we are focused and positive.
I say, "That's wonderful," and I mean it.
A few minutes later he asks if he can share one more thing and I say okay and he SINGS ME A SONG in pidgin English and his language from Nigeria. And I didn't even feel silly. I may have blushed a little but mainly just smiled and said, "Thank you. I appreciate that."
He went back to his table and turned around one more time to tell me that some people think it's weird to share with strangers and tell him he shouldn't do that. "No,' I say. "You should do that."