"Beware the banana curls" and other such nonsense

I have trouble talking to people I don't know. That said, its a wonder I make any friends, especially since the expression on my face is usually a mix of apathy and slight distaste at the goings on of the world. I don't mean to have this face, but I don't smile as often as some others.

I find a lot of people from this strange, mysterious force that drives people together when they are thrown into crowds of people they don't know.

I first realized this strange occurrence when I was waiting for a bus at an airport. There were only men in business attire (If I could have gathered the gumption to speak to them I might have died happy) besides a gorgeous blond chick and I.

This blond chick looked the opposite of a person I would normally converse with. It was obvious her clothes were name brand, her matching luggage set was baby blue, she wore over-sized sunglasses and held a latte in her free hand. And her hair was too perfect (I make it never a rule to trust people with perfectly curly unnatural curls produced by a big-barrel curling iron).

Well she sits next to me and begins speaking. I'm shocked because a) she's talking to me and b) she's being extraordinarily nice and friendly. In my head I'm like WTF, but I manage to politely respond. By the end of the bus ride we are practically BFFs and I know that she's a pageant queen from a private school in Georgia and she knows all of the particularly interesting stories I tell anyone (like how my dog is crazy or how I live practically alone and watch Bones and eat ice cream or go to Denny's with the gang--my life in 26 words).

Then I never see her again. I doubt I thought about her once until I wrote this blog entry. This is a sad fact, but an inescapable one. What would we do if we kept in close contact with all the strangers met on buses, planes, at camps? I could never keep up with that many Facebook friends. I don't think I have space in my brain for that much detail.

The good of this all: the knowledge that in strange, awkward situations, there is always an emergency friend to turn to, to make that bus ride with suit wearing men you don't know less awkward. And I think there's a message in here somewhere about not judging a label-whore by her banana curls.

Your butterfly,
Regette H.