Are you OK?
Well, are you?
(I sat alone at a pho noodle bar in the mission district for dinner last night. I went alone for the reason that I wanted to be alone. I placed my shopping bag on the bar stool next to mine partly because I didn’t want to sit next to anyone and partly because it was awkward and too small of a space to place it under my chair which made the choice easy.)
“HEY! HI! HELLO! IS SOMEONE SITTING HERE?”
(I jump a bit and turn to see an overly enthusiastic man in his late 20’s with a shit eating grin on his face and say to myself ‘Dude, I can hear you OK, sheesh.’ Notice he’s wearing a Fitbit — the big most expensive one that screams ‘I’m an active kinda guy, yeah!’. Notice buzzcut. Notice he probably has curly hair since he’s got little patches that hold more hair than others. Notice he’s wearing Invisaline. Notice lime green Nikes. Notice he’s carrying a book titled “Bold: How to Go Big, Create Wealth and Impact the World” and it immediately made me want to slap him. It’s important to note that there were approximately 13 open bar stools to choose from. Notice I’m doing that thing again where I overwhelm myself with observations. I pause, collect my thoughts and respond.)
“NOPE!”
(I shouted while purposely gazing at the other 13 open seats, hoping he’d pick up on the fact that I’m mocking his over zealous-ness. I struggle with my stool to fit my shopping bag underneath. I notice he’s wearing two different color socks. He slides onto the stool without hesitation.)
“Are you waiting for anyone?”
“Nope.”
“Are you OK?”
(This question really seemed to throw me off. I don’t know if any stranger has ever asked me this question before. Am I OK? What does that even mean? Just because I’m eating alone you think something’s wrong? How did he just happen to know I was actually coping with something during that particular hour? Was it really that obvious? Or is he just responding this way to my mocking-of-him?)
“Compared to what?”
(I’m beginning to feel a little guilty at this point about the way I was treating this stranger.)
“Hah! You really had me there! Good one! DINNER FOR ONE I TAKE IT?
“Yep, yes, dinner for one, that is correct.”
“ME TOO!!! Fist bump?!”
(He reaches out his fist, gently clenched and gives me another shit eating grin. I think ‘Holy fuck, this guy has GOT to be kidding me right now.’ It only took me a few milliseconds to realize he’s not kidding, but it took what seemed like an eternity to lift my arm, and clench my fist so that his hairy knuckles could suspend through the air all for the oh-so-anti-climatic-moment when they hit mine awkwardly. I felt robbed of my integrity all of sudden, a feeling that continued to linger for quite sometime afterwards.)
“What are you gonna order?!”
“Pho.”
“Yeah, of course, but like, what kind?!”
“The kind with beef.”
“Oh. We may not have that much in common after all! I’m a chicken kinda guy…”
“Oh… cool.”
“Are you sure you’re OK?! Just tell me if you want me to leave you alone.”
(‘Am I sure I’m OK?’ Again, that question. It really got to me. What a weird one. And what choice does the respondent have anyways?)
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you. But I actually prefer to be left alone right now — I was looking for some quiet time.”
“Oh OK! Sure thing! I know how that goes. I can get some reading done anyways.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
(It took another 15 minutes for me to get my beef pho. He continued to sit there, right next to me, despite my rudeness and despite the 13 other empty seats. I was consumed by the awkward tension which made minutes feel like hours. ‘Am I OK? Am I OK? Am I OK?’ I kept repeating that dreadful question over and over. By the time I got my pho, I had a new found respect for the stranger. Instead of wanting to slap him, I wanted to hug him. I wanted to say ‘Thank you for asking me that, sir. Are YOU ok?’ But I never did. When I started to loosen up and when the sliver of guilt made another appearance, I muscled up enough courage to make amends.)
“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Hey! No need to apologize!”
(I suspended my gaze in his direction slightly longer than appropriate. I was curious about what he was so adamantly underlining in his silly book. It was,”Anything that works will be used in progressively more challenging applications until it fails.” and I thought, ‘how fitting…’)