Last week, I told you guys something happened to me. I had an encounter in Starbucks, just with a random guy in line asking me about what I was doing after graduation, and I panicked. A lot. Like....a TON.
I don't know what it is about me and coffee shops and random men, I really don't. But for some reason, they all gravitate to me for conversation. Now, as a complete and total advocate for making the most out of any daily situation and for getting to know people, I get it. It's basically karma for me constantly offering an ear to whoever needs it. We all need someone, don't act like you guys don't know how that one goes. You know, where someone in a fast food restaurant asks how your day is going and suddenly you find yourself telling the guy taking your order that you're fine, but would be SO MUCH BETTER IF YOU HAD NOT FAILED YOUR CHEM TEST AND YOUR CAR BATTERY HADN'T DIED AND IF YOUR ROOMMATE WOULD JUST CLEAN THE GODFORSAKEN BATHROOM ONCE IN A BLUE MOON!!! We are all guilty of it, letting loose and not realizing it.
Today, I had one of those experiences. Sitting at Starbucks, doing my homework. I sat down at the six person table on Campus Corner with some random girl because there were no seats left when I first got my drink; as the day passed (I spent a few hours there...) more seats began to open up and I suddenly found myself sitting in the middle seat of this six person study table. Alone. Yeah, I was that asshole and I know that each of you who frequents the Starbucks on Campus Corner can agree--we all hate that person that takes up all the space at the six person table. I was totally in a zone though! I had my headphones in, I wasn't really paying attention to the time, and I was trying to complete a few semi-dense readings that needed to be done before tomorrow.
I glanced up to see a man walking in the doors. I recognized him from seeing him at Starbucks last week. Older. Bald. Wearing one of those super round-brimmed cowboy hats with the feathers in it and a pair of old starched wranglers. He wasn't exactly a forgettable dude. Actually, a lot of you who live in Norman and frequent Starbucks have probably seen him around too. Anyway, he orders his drink and then asks if he can join me at my table. Naturally, I say yes, fully well expecting him to sit in one of the three empty seats across the table from me, but he doesn't. Nope. He sits down right next to me and starts chatting away.
I took out my headphones and politely responded to his question of what I was studying in school. Things started pretty normal.
Then I asked if he had attended the University previously and things started to get a little...bizarre. He said he had been offered a scholarship, a loooooong time ago to run track and didn't take it. The conversation took a turn towards him discussing his faith. Now, for any of you who are "not religious" or grew up in Oklahoma as one of the very few that does not consider themselves religious, you know exactly how uncomfortable this conversation can become. It usually starts with people telling their stories of how they were saved, where in life they discovered their Lord and Savior, and why they made the decision to get baptized or to give their life to God then quickly leads into them inviting you to their house for bible study or inviting you to attend their church or whatever the situation may be. Plain and simple, it is uncomfortable. Now, although I do not consider myself religious, I do believe in God and I do pray--I just do not actively attend a church and I honestly do not prioritize it over anything else like many do. I guess this is where I say, it isn't that I'm not religious, it's that I'm not super spiritual. I think that's how that goes....
Anyway. He starts telling me this story of a track meet he was at where he can remember the first time he ever prayed for strength and speed to finish his race and when he was almost to the finish line, he stopped. Because he realized how fast he had been running and knew that it was not a "natural" thing--attributing it, naturally, to his prayer before the race.
Okay, let me interrupt my own story once again. I cannot tell you how nervous I was that this man was going to either start preaching to me or start condemning me for being in a sorority like the guy on the South Oval does.
So I respond, that's pretty great and incredible and that I wish he could have experienced the same University that I have been given the opportunity to experience over the last 3.5 years because I find my CIS professors so incredible and that I think they have done more for me than I ever thought an educator could do. He says that's pretty cool and he's so glad that someone like me has been given the opportunity to experience it. Then, he starts telling other stories, but in particular, he tells two more. One is his experience with God and the other is his experience with the Devil. The latter, he explains, he has never admitted to anyone before until he met me. Keep in mind, thirty minutes has passed since he sat down next to me. At this point, I'm thinking that these stories are so bizarre and this old man is CRAZY. He has also admitted to me, in this time period, that he had been homeless at one point and never accepted pity or begged on the streets, but at one point, started hitting the bottle pretty hard because it was a way out of his real world situation.
But in particular, was this story he told about how he had encountered the devil during his time as a homeless man. It was the last story he told aside from another, where he talked about a bluejay he saved and now cares for in his home. He is insistent on how he has never told anyone this story before and he does not have any idea why he was drawn to tell me, but tells me that I "just have a different aura" about me than anyone he has ever spoken to before. He continues and says, "You are a very, very special person. I cannot describe how I was just drawn to sit down and talk to you, because I felt like it was necessary. You are someone who radiates positivity in a world of hate and negativeness. YOU ARE THE BIG DOG." I said thank you and introduced myself as Rachele. He said it was a pleasure, then started to tear up. Naturally, once again, I'm panicking. Because feelings and tears, I just don't do well. He said, I have told the other stories many times to people who probably think I am just a crazy old man (ME, YES, ALARMS ARE GOING OFF) and I have never been treated as nicely as you have treated me today--like I said, your aura is just positive. He then told me to have a nice day and left.
Not 3 minutes later, the door to Starbucks opens again and there he is. He comes back over to the table that I'm now, sitting alone at once again, and hugs me. Okay, panic again. This strangely polite but emotional old man has his arm around my shoulders and I have already seen him tear up a little...how do I handle this...is this weird or.......
So he says, "Rachele, I have never come to Starbucks three times in one day but today I did. I didn't know why I was coming here my third time around and I fully believe that everything that happens, happens for a reason. You were brought to me as a saving grace that I have never had before. I was feeling down in the dumps the last couple of weeks and have been trying to find my way and my reason for living anymore. I realized when I finished my conversation with you, you had cured all of those feelings. I do not feel upset, weary, depressed, anything. I'm not upset anymore and I no longer have an upset bone in my body. You are incredible and you are definitely something special. You're the big dog, whether you believe it or not." I quickly caught myself becoming emotional because I have NEVER had someone say something so kind when they simply do not have to and when they do not have any idea of who I am minus a 45 minute conversation in a coffee shop. Before leaving, he told me again that he appreciated me, then pointed at the sky and said "I know we will meet again because encounters like this are not chance, they are planned." He pointed at the sky, winked at me, and left.
He didn't return and I caught myself crying into a caramel macchiato. I'm not typically emotional, but I cannot tell you how great I felt after leaving Starbucks today. I cried to myself all the way to my car because I have never been paid a compliment that was so great.
I'm not telling you all this story to show off or brag or whatever negative concept could be taken from it. As I have said before, my blog is an outlet for myself to relax and tell my stories. I guess my bottom line is this. Sometimes, people are going to seem a little...off. I mean, if this story doesn't epitomize an old man who seems to have "gone off his rocker", I don't know what does. But you don't know how much of a difference you make when you just lend an ear to someone who really, really really really, just wants a listener. I didn't even get a name from the guy, but as he said before, I'm sure we will meet again at some point down the road.
Today, I counted my blessings twice and recognized how much my faith in people had been diminishing but was quickly restored after a 45 minute break from studying.
One of my biggest mentors on campus sent me a quote today, in Spanish. I'm going to share it because it struck home for me. In the meantime, listen to someone who needs it. Your impact will probably be larger than you expect.
El cuento que nos se cuenta, no cuenta.
The story that you do not tell, does not count.
