And as I'm reflecting on this, the following morning, I conclude that that was probably the highlight of the evening. Not long after we had left and gone home. We never saw the girls from the pub again.
Today, I will journey westwards, over the mountains and plains, to the city library. It's a half an hour walk. This book has evaded my attempts of obtaining it thus far, but today my determination has reached new levels. I will succeed in finding this book. Before leaving the house I find myself looking in the mirror, wondering if I can reduce my hostile appearance which by now I have convinced myself that I have.
I activate a big smile, which I can actually pull off quite easily, with little faking involved. I'm surprised at how genuine it looks at first., but it slowly changes, it disintegrates. My eyes stop smiling. Then my mouth changes shape, like it's struggling to find the smile it originally found so easily. I find myself staring at teeth; no emotion attached whatsoever, a void behind the eyes.
My fake smile reminds me of a big Donkey Rhubarb grinning bear. Well, if it's a choice between 'creepy huge grin' or 'bite your head off scowl', then I guess I'll go for the former. Smile at the strangers, everyone likes a happy student.
The walk to the library gives me plenty of opportunities to attempt this new approach towards interaction. First, before I've even exited my road, I see girl number one. She's quite far away so I have some time to prepare, but this turns out more a curse than a blessing. I now have too much time to think about what I have to do: when do I start my creepy smile? Do I just smile constantly until eye contact is established, or wait and start when she looks at me? That would mean activating that smile pretty quickly, and it takes a long time to get from position A: normal face, to position B: forced smile. By then she could have passed me by, walked to the other end of the road, and designed a new ecologically friendly mode of transport. And I'd be standing at the other end, grinning into empty space.
I've become sufficiently overwhelmed by the time we're at optimum distance and nothing happens, we walk past each other and go on with our lives.
As I walk I pass various places which haunt me with their connotations. They jump out of the shadows forcing unwanted memories to surface and I have to kick them out of my mind with a big mental shoe. I focus on the task at hand, no time for the past. The next important event is Girl 2, who I see a few roads down, near the church. This time it goes seamlessly. I manage to not over-think the situation and this brilliant, but probably creepy(?), smile emerges just as she looks towards me. Her response is of complete indifference, and I find this disheartening.
Why did she not smile back? Surely that's just polite. Was my smile too subtle and she hadn't noticed? Or, did she not have enough time in the moment when we were both in smiling range? Maybe, she's just like me, and she's also going over the situation in her head:
Should I have smiled back?
Theres just not enough time to respond; we're both travelling at, like, 3.5mph or something in opposite directions.
He was quite cute too. . . .
Hold on. Back to reality. Drifting in to an dangerous fantasy world there. Gotta keep standards and expectations low, it's the best way to avoid disappointment.
Occasionally the connotation ghosts which hover on street corners, reminding me of my past, come to life. This happens now; and who should it be? It's Chloe. It would seem that maybe I am still destined to randomly bump in to her on the street after all.
"Hey dude!" I exclaim, convincingly covering up my adrenaline laden symptoms, I think. It's fight or flight, but seriously, am I going to run away? No, it's too late for that, regrettably.
"Hey, Lee," she says, and we come to a stop.
She tells me about work. I tell her about university. It's all rather bland and meaningless.
"I'm going to the library. . . "
"I'm going to the train station. . . "
But another, unspoken, conversation is occurring, in body language and eye movements:
Her: Why do we have to keep bumping into each other like this?
Me: I know! No offence, but you're killing me!
Her: Sorry, but that's your fault, 'cause you're a bit of a loser, aren't you?
Me: Yeah, I should be walking you to the station, boyfriend style, shouldn't I?
Her: Can we go our separate ways now?
Me: Gladly.
"See you soon," she says, pleasantly.
"Yeah, have a nice holiday," I respond.
The library is of medium busyness and it's quite manageable. I home in on the area where my book should be. I can't remember the author's name, so I scan the shelves, head lopsided. And there it is! So, it turns out I am relying on public libraries more than the university library, and the significance of my tuition fees continues to baffle me.
But this is good; mission accomplished. I'm quite happy. The trick is, I conclude, to set yourself small tasks and bask in self-glorification when you achieve them.
I join the queue for the issue desk somewhat elated. There are five others awaiting 'library staff approval' before being allowed to leave; a process which consists of a stern judgement (based on the book(s) being borrowed), a barcode scan and return date stamp, and a wry eye. In front of me is an elderly chap who catches my eye as I join the queue.
"Hi," I say, with a genuine smile. He smiles in return. "Here we are," I continue with a contemplative sigh, " . . . in the queue."
The elderly chap gives a murmur of acknowledgement, and I decide to go on, " . . . funny isn't it? There's the six of us, all unified by the fact that we are the people in this queue, know what I mean? If nothing else, we have this in common. And our little group is part of a wider group - 'the queuers of the world!' All of us doing our bit to keep queuing alive and all of us hating every minute - united in our impatience for the people in front of us, united in our indifference towards the people behind."
"Ok mate, settle down," the chap says, and I hint a trace of impatience. This man, I am happy to realise, is immersed in the role of the 'queuer', and he's doing a sublime job. I don't talk to anyone else for the remainder of the proceedings.
I leave the library and walk home, stumbling across a man in the park sleeping half in and half out of a bush. Actually, is he sleeping? He looks quite lifeless. He must be sleeping. 'Drunk man falls asleep in bush' is a regular headline around here. One doesn't come across dead people in parks in real life, it just doesn't happen. On the back of this convincing argument I conclude that he is sleeping peacefully and checking on him would be rude and discourteous.
Down the road I round a corner to find some guy walking straight towards me, we are on course for collision, and action must be swift. I ease to the right but he mirrors the action. Our eyes lock. I dart to the left only to find he has done the same. We both laugh and somehow the third attempt allowed us to pass. All obstacles effectively overcome, I reach my house around the 1:30pm mark.
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