For me, it was a long talk I had with a random person on Omegle when that was a thing. I was bored one night so I decided to give it a try and I was matched with someone who I had nearly a 2 hour conversation with. We told jokes, told each other about ourselves, and talked like we were lifelong friends. But, we never did tell each other our names. I could’ve talked to this person all night but the interaction turned for the worst near the end. The person was depressed from what I gathered and the depression arose and the conversation fizzled out. I still think about them nearly 6 years later and hope that they are doing good whoever they were.
A day or three after Hurricane Ivan finds me (white), my two roommates (white and Taiwanese) and a stranger (black) from around the corner playing cards on the porch. No power or water, it was all we had to do.
Black guy keeps getting us white guys mixed up. He gets our names wrong again and the other white guy says, “I’m John, he’s Jules.”
This guy is stumbling over himself apologizing and I cut him off, “It’s all good! I know we white people all look alike to y’all.”
An intense 2.54 seconds follows while everyone looks around the table to see if it’s OK to laugh. Then we just started howling. Whew.
Probably my earliest memory of interacting with someone outside my family was when I was in an Easter egg hunt and being a little kid somehow managed to drop all my eggs. Another kid stopped what he was doing to help me pick them up. I don’t know why but that stuck in my head and I think it’s influenced how I’ve treated people throughout my life.
This is a great question!
When I was like 17, I was driving (the speed limit, no music playing) through my friend’s neighborhood when I passed a woman out grabbing her mail. I gave a little wave and smiled, and she looked at me like I had just punted a fucking infant.
I felt so offended, and I’ve never forgotten that look on her face- I would love to know what her perspective on this is/was.
I’m just sitting here refreshing this thread waiting for more stories, so I’m gonna share another one.
I was talking to a black man with the most gorgeous blue eyes. I complimented him on his eyes, and he asked, genuinely, “you know how I got blue eyes?”, and there’s really only 3 options- 2 mixed parents, or 1 white and 1 mixed, so I took a stab at it and said “you got a white dad?” This man’s eyes went WIDE like I was a damn witch. He got real serious and asked “how’d you know that??” I told him I just guessed, but it was clear he didn’t believe me as he scratched his chin and put some distance between us
Just as an FYI don’t need any white in there to have eye colors other than brown. Just increases the likelihood.
/#3
When I was about 7/8yrs old, I ended up in an elevator alone with an elderly couple who proceeded to debate with one another whether I was a boy or a girl, while making direct eye contact with me.
The woman argued I must be a girl because of my pretty hair and face, while her husband was sure I must be a boy, given my… outfit and eyebrows? They never bothered to asked me, and I exited the elevator without saying a word to them
My interaction was WAAAY different but the same vein.
I was driving around, biting the backside of my fingernail. I turned a corner, and this gorgeous girl driving, waved, and smiled at me for no reason.
I was like, hot damn I still got it. Then, I realized biting the back of my nail, palm facing out, probably looked like I was waving at her.
To this day I don’t know why it stuck with me.
Awe, that’s cute! For her to smile and wave back though you must be fairly attractive yourself, even if she didn’t do so unprompted!
My primary hypothesis is the woman somehow thought I flipped her off. Imagining a stranger smiling at me and showing me their middle finger, I might have a similar reaction lol
Ha, interesting question, really cool answers all around.
For me, it was many years ago when I went with a friend to visit a common friend that was studying in Vermont (we 3 are from Europe), and using the occasion we went to visit new York as well. One night we went to have a walk around Times Square and took the subway to get there. I was just standing there checking out the map to keep myself busy when this huge black guy wearing an even bigger fur coat that was sitting started talking to me and asking where I was going and if I needed help.
At first I awkwardly said that I didn’t need any help, I was just looking at the map to keep busy. He insisted asking where I was going, to which I answered to have a stroll around times square. He got quite cheerful and said he was going in the same direction and he knew a shortcut. At that point I got a bit suspicious but the guy said changing the train we would get there faster, I confirmed that indeed the other train was going in that direction and he told us to follow him. Despite my suspicion as long as there was plenty of people around I decided to trust him and go with him.
After the change of train he told me he knew another trick about that station, everyone was going to the normal stairs but he told us if we go a bit further we can avoid those stairs. He took us to an escalator that took us into an exit straight at Times square.
In the meantime we started talking with him, he told us he was going that night to have a guy’s night out with his friends and they were going to Atlantic City. He started telling us about his life, he was a music editor, and was married, and loved to help people visiting new York. By the time we got out into the street it felt like we were quite close friends and we stayed there a bit still talking, he was one of the nicest random people I have ever met, we took a photo together and he gave me his contact card in case I ever returned to NY (which I didn’t).
I’ve thought about him ever since and wondered how he was doing. It’s a great memory I have of such a simple random encounter.
Was riding my motorcycle up to the races at Laguna Seca in Monterey. As a photographer I had all my gear on the bike. Everything, it was packed. It is a sportbike so I didn’t have a lot of luggage. Just a tankbag that was filled to the top, and a backpack I had strapped to the rear seat, which is pretty tiny. Anyway on the way up the 101 I come across another motorcycle who pulls onto the interstate and up next to me. We ride for a while, and then as we get to an exit he motions for me to pull off and points to his tank. I decided that was a good time to get gas myself so I peeled in behind him. We get to the station and he takes off his helmet and he’s definitely in his 70’s or 80’s. I was in my mid 30’s at the time so it was cool to see an older rider. We were filling up our bikes and he asked if I wanted to grab a cup of coffee and I said sure. So we went inside and started talking, and he too was heading up to Laguna Seca for the races. He asked if I had ridden the 1 up to Monterey and I said that I hadn’t. He insisted that it was something you don’t want to miss. I explained that I had to pick up my press pass and was on a little bit of a schedule. We finished our cups (I had oj) and walked back out to the bikes. He said if I wanted to ride with him it was cool and that he was taking the cutoff over to the 1 and would be taking that exit. We hit the road and miles passed. I saw him point to the exit over to the 1, and move over. I waved to him and pointed straight ahead. I was just going to ‘get there’. He nodded his head and headed off the exit. As I was right at the end of the exit something in my head said ‘screw it’, and I jammed on the brakes and whipped over. When I got to the stop at the end of the exit he looked over and pulled up his visor and yelled “you changed your mind?” I nodded and away we went.
It was a beautiful ride, and we stopped again to get gas and were chatting again. We decided that we would stop up the road at a place he knew to eat. We then commented about each other’s bikes and for some reason we decided to swap bikes. I get on his bike, and he hops on mine, and away we go. About 2 miles down the road I am sitting there following him and had a realization… Everything I have is on my bike. Wallet, phone, camera equipment, clothes, etc. I started thinking, my bike is a lot faster than his bike and if he were to take off, I wouldn’t have any way of catching him. Then it occurred to me that I don’t even know his name. I could just imagine getting pulled over on his bike and trying to explain to the cops that this old guy let me borrow it, and then not being able to even tell them his name. I calmed back down and just got back into the ride and we swapped who led a couple of times. The view was/is absolutely spectacular so that kept my mind from going into overdrive. We got to the place to have lunch and pulled over. We both talked about the nice parts about each other’s bikes and we went in and he bought me lunch. We also exchanged names. I explained that when we got into Monterey I had to go over to a certain hotel to pick up my credentials. He was heading over to his hotel and then going to the track. We both hopped back on our own bikes and took off. When we got into Monterey we came to an intersection and I had to go one way and he went the other. We waved to each other and that was it. I really wish I could remember his name, but over time it has been lost in my mind. I think about him every once in a while and wonder things like what ever happened to him. I would guess he has passed by now, but think it would be cool to have one more chat and a quick ride on each other’s bikes if he was still around and riding. I just hope that one day some young kid remembers me as that old guy on the motorcycle.
