I wrote this entry on April 17th 2006, on another blog. I just recently found it again and thought I would re-post it. It was from the time when I was working at the Riding Fool Hostel in Cumberland.
Working at a hostel, you encounter all sorts of people. Some good, some bad, others you feel indifferent about. Some strike you in odd ways and you begin to wonder about them. One guy who I met tonight was very odd. He didn't seem comfortable talking to people. I guess you would label him "socially awkward," for lack of actually getting to know him. At first I though he might be deaf. He had trouble just making basic conversation, so I thought maybe he couldn't understand what I was saying. I realized after that nothing was really wrong with him. He was just...as he is.
This stranger is on a bike tour. I don't know where he is from or where he's going, but he's living off his bike. Out of pannies and only with himself. His bike is nothing fancy, an old Rocky Mountain, which you can tell has a good few stories in it, with plenty of potential for more. Its old, and rough, but in a good way.
I grabbed the stranger's bike to pop it up on the hook in our bike storage room when I noticed a sticker on the frame. It was partially rubbed off and ripped in places, this sticker also had a story to tell. As I squinted harder to read the sticker that the stranger had placed there, I made out the words, "My Bike Takes Me Places That School Never Could."As I read this I looked up at the stranger and I said to him "I couldn't agree more." He seemed to smile, and then looked down at the floor...It was then I knew I had made a friend. His hair was in knots, and his flannel shirt although wrinkled and torn had more depth than any $150 jersey ever could, or ever will.
I took the stranger up to his room, and I thought about the sticker more and more as the night went on.
The stranger left before I opened the hostel the next morning. Like so many other guests who stumble though the area, I figured I would never see him again.
Working at a hostel, you encounter all sorts of people. Some good, some bad, others you feel indifferent about. Some strike you in odd ways and you begin to wonder about them. One guy who I met tonight was very odd. He didn't seem comfortable talking to people. I guess you would label him "socially awkward," for lack of actually getting to know him. At first I though he might be deaf. He had trouble just making basic conversation, so I thought maybe he couldn't understand what I was saying. I realized after that nothing was really wrong with him. He was just...as he is.
This stranger is on a bike tour. I don't know where he is from or where he's going, but he's living off his bike. Out of pannies and only with himself. His bike is nothing fancy, an old Rocky Mountain, which you can tell has a good few stories in it, with plenty of potential for more. Its old, and rough, but in a good way.
I grabbed the stranger's bike to pop it up on the hook in our bike storage room when I noticed a sticker on the frame. It was partially rubbed off and ripped in places, this sticker also had a story to tell. As I squinted harder to read the sticker that the stranger had placed there, I made out the words, "My Bike Takes Me Places That School Never Could."As I read this I looked up at the stranger and I said to him "I couldn't agree more." He seemed to smile, and then looked down at the floor...It was then I knew I had made a friend. His hair was in knots, and his flannel shirt although wrinkled and torn had more depth than any $150 jersey ever could, or ever will.
I took the stranger up to his room, and I thought about the sticker more and more as the night went on.
The stranger left before I opened the hostel the next morning. Like so many other guests who stumble though the area, I figured I would never see him again.
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