How to spend a weekend with strangers
The couple had already married, so I only crashed the party. Still counts. My semi-invite consisted of a four-tweet exchange with the husband.
Cheap plane tickets carried me to Baton Rouge, La., and as a bonus, I was handed the keys to a rental car with 300 miles gone, a new white stallion to skim across the swamp roads to Lafayette and, at one point, slide partway down a levy road like drunken pelican off its perch.
“This is Dustin,” said the husband to his wife.
“From the Internet,” completed my introduction.
By the time I left Monday, I’d accomplished everything anyone should when spending a weekend with strangers. I’d made it into wedding pictures and danced to zydeco music with the mother of the bride. I’d learned to snap crawfish with an aunt and uncle of the groom. I’d met new friends on both coasts and a few cities in between.
You might never fly 1,000 miles to meet someone with whom you’ve exchanged a dozen digital words, but proper technique for these kinds of activities prevails in daily life too.
In the days after I secured my flight, I cleaned out the cabinet above the fridge in my apartment. My roommate had moved for a new job, and she’d left a few items. I spied a thick green and yellow book with headlines in French: “Talk About Good!” an edition of a massively popular — 800,000 copies sold since 1967 — cookbook published by the Junior Women’s League of Lafayette, La. In relaying the story to my parents, my dad cut in with a, “Funny you should mention that.” He’d been weeding through old magazines and found an article detailing the ultimate Cajun-country food, a meat-and-rice-filled sausage called boudin. The article mentioned Lafayette and surrounding towns. Down at the hostel (see #2), I spoke with one of the women at the front desk who realized she’d attended middle school with the husband. Maybe I was supposed to go to Lafayette for a stranger’s wedding. Even if you don’t believe in coincidences, they still happen. Flow with them. Embrace them.
Hostels do exist in America, but the Blue Moon Saloon also doubles as a well-known music venue. You can listen to jams on the back porch from the comfort of a rocking chair on the front porch. That’s where the conversations happen. Day or night, if you’re in a situation with a bunch of strangers, you can’t be one yourself. Boring people don’t stay in hostels, but you do have to at least say hi to start the conversation, whether that’s in a hostel kitchen at 6 a.m. or on the rooftop patio of the swankiest bar in town. You need to find one or two people who will accompany you on some adventures. The only way you learn that is to learn about them. You have to ask more questions than you answer.
You’ve found some friends. Great. You’ll appreciate their presence even more once you have an inside joke to share. A few of us at the wedding party kept a running commentary about the salt mines in the swamp islands. At the same time, you have to stay open to including a new face in the group. Despite your front-porch philosophizing and kitchen conversations, hanging with the same people provides as much of a crutch as holding your phone in your face. You won’t exit your comfort zone if you latch onto the first person you meet.
4. Dance with the one you find.
Given the proximity necessary for good dancing, the activity might be one of the fastest ways to connect with someone. This is legitimate dancing, not the club-style attempt to light a fire with the friction of clothing. Maybe the activity where you’re exploring involves paddle boards or museum scavenger hunts or scrapbooks or just another gin and tonic. Whatever the prevailing form of local recreation, find it and participate.
Leave room for the illogical on any experience with complete strangers. You’ve come this far, so why should the weirdness of life make sense now? I had a minutes-long conversation about rental car policies. Why do they give you two keys on an inseparable ring? Logic needs eliminated sometimes. Carry on.
Even if you click with one or several people, know when to walk away from friendship roulette. Listen to conversational cues. When people start yawning at the 4 a.m. lull, no one will blame you for retreating to bed. The late-night pizza’s only trace crumbs. The vodka handle is empty, and there’s no chance for more. Unless the hippest activity in town starts at sunrise and you’re cranking for an all-nighter, say goodbye. Then give away your contact information. Friends don’t let new friends fall off the social map. And somebody’s probably getting married next weekend.
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