I spawned a thirty minute long conversation Thursday afternoon with a stranger on the block where KMart stood and Starbucks held steady on the street across. This dude was a well-dressed Asian guy with a nice bag that resembled a Diesel carry-all or a Club Monaco carry-all. His glasses looked like the stiffer Clark Kent glasses with a straight bridge. At a distance I noticed his gait, his glasses, and his rather conserved look that echoed a very prim, proper, reserved Asian who probably marooned himself away from NYU. I make these assumptions mostly because I assume NYU kids flock around the neighborhood of Astor Place and 8 Street. I made no mention of his face until I pulled up side by side with him within arm-hitting distance. It was then I realized his face reminded of someone I saw before, but then again the Asian stereotype reverberates in my head, "Asians look alike." I made no further judgments because my head was doing a battle: Should I or Shouldn't I? I ceased all the questions and just went for it. I opened my mouth and said Excuse me Sir, you have a nice bag." His sideways look managed his head halfways as I have come to notice that this is how most strangers react when another stranger hails them in a nonchalant way. It wasn't until he realized my basis of compliment and then his head fully turned to me at ease and his gait began to loosen up. He confirmed that he likes Club Monaco but he edged me away from J.Crew because he thinks that the Club Monaco people are laughing at the ones who are stuck and are pulled in to J.Crew. Apparently doing one-stop shopping at J.Crew is a sign of the inability to mix and match and the easier you are to conform. I suppose that means that J.Crew has slimmed in its meaning of popularity and wearing it makes you only part of the pejorative equation. He corrected me by saying that his bag was from Diane von Furstenberg and that it was actually a woman's bag. I chortled because it was a surprise he told me that honestly and in light of all sexuality barriers (I would expect that heterosexual males wear male items; this makes me conform to heteronormativity by even assuming this first and foremost.). I chortled because I was alarmed he would tell me such a thing and did not worry that I would think him gay or feminine to be toting feminine stuff. But then again I wear female or "unisex" shoes or even female size tops which are devoid of the slim waists if I can't find my size, so I shouldn't be making these judgments because of men/female crossover. I still do it because I think in polarity, I seem to think incredibly feminine or just not at all. So if you were to tell me it's a female bag I would think it is incredibly hobo baglike. But since his bag was incredibly male-like even after two glances I laughed at the dissonance. But upon the third look the bag began to look a tad female.
I don't it hit me that Calvin was a little taken aback until at West 4th Street when we watched a handball game that he asked me Do you usually go up to guys and ask them about their bag? I made associations with sexual orientation and certain piqued interests. His keywords "usually" intensified the question because it made me seek my recent history and also evaluate my slim bump-in conversations with men, which in turn only shapes my response of whether it will be a response with a good feeling or with a bad feeling. That is funny because he didn't ask for me a feeling, he simply asked me a yes or no question. But I ended up digging in too deep and shelling out honest tones and attitudes in my voice. This came out as offputting which Marilla used three months ago as a term that she characterized me with. It is offputting because it became an answer that he did not originally intend on; I said too much and this muchness becomes a load on him. Not to say that he cannot handle the load, but the load is a little unexpected. It is unexpected not in a way that certain things are expected, but it is unexpected because the question did not generally suppose such an answer. So I answered him frankly that I only stopped a few guys and made it seem docile that I do not stalk men. The question seemed to tap into my orientation as well when he used the word men and it alluded to stalking. I made this association because I am homophobic easily and this raised the intense idea of union with men. What if my neighborhood of Chelsea had exposed me to gay men and gay life? But the thought of even posing this question is trying to seek an answer to my homophobic tendencies and it simply seeks to explain away these intricacies which is more problem-aversive than normal people deal with. But then again who is actually normal? This question will probably be troublesome to Karen who hates "it is what it is" type-statements because they are averting problems in life and simply skirting around them, not directly walking through problems as Mr. Fried said during my high school graduation. Sadly he was fired a few months ago and was made a mentor by the malicious DOE.
I didn't think that Calvin found me sticky or stalkerlike or even annoying. He found me rather interesting and willed to take a chance with me. I assume this because he asked me as a courtesy call which way I was headed. He said he was going down to West 4 I suppose because he wanted to keep the conversation. But it wasn't as if he had a huge tendency to talk because it ended up winding down to some degree; it didn't have the same energy level as when it started. Then again our initial sentences exploded it was concerning our sartorial elegance which we both admire and we have common interest in. His wardrobe piqued my interest and he told me that I should shop at Queens Center Mall's Club Monaco because they have the secret stash of sale items constantly which would help me preserve my bank. I think that Calvin was able to bond with me even though he called me a stranger. It indicates his remarkable level of distance and also his calm understanding of what remains stark truth on all levels despite some kind of sentimental feeling taking place. The idea that I would not see Calvin again when he told me that I might not cross paths with him again almost moved me to say Aw. For some strange reason I felt like Calvin was a brother three times removed from me, but it wasn't until I thought of him less that I didn't consider him at all. I think I consider him less because he called me a stranger which only helped me put him off in terms of consideration. Though I did admit that I find "company in strangers" a few months ago since Linda and I went on a photography expedition with a Meetup group, I still consider the old mantra never to take candy from strangers. The best admit that a stranger can give me is to be intensely real, don't bum around, don't take time off for too long, and to network. Calvin apologized to me that he doesn't have any hookups that can find me work. He also said that realistically, my best bet with philosophy is to teach and go into academia which will allow me to feed my interest during my research projects since I have such an interest as he had discovered (I've told him a lot about existentialism and Derrida whom he considers pretty rad); I suppose I told him negative things about Derrida to inspire a sense of rebel-hipster sensitivity or perhaps I wanted to show off to him that I am a different kind of hipster.
The topic of hipsterdom actually came full circle when I asked him what kind of people wear JCrew. He made an assumption they must be graphic designers or semi-professionals. I told him that I want to stray away from being a hipster. Calvin immediately rebuked "you are hipster; you probably deny it but you are one. The people who deny they are hipsters are the biggest hipsters." He was brute and honest with it because he was a practical guy as I ended up finding out if not at the first sentence. Either his reserved character in choice of words is natural for strangers meeting up or it is a characterological feature that he has which makes him prim and proper and dapper as well.
When we departed he said take care almost three times. He extended our conversation which would normally cut off in few seconds with other strangers. I suppose his coincidence of meeting older people has fueled his interest or he perhaps had a small attachment and maybe the least he can offer me as a stranger would be to "take care" and wish me the best as his undertone statement/best wishes. I consider this such a gentle act that carried our conversation farther than the half hour, which is probably why three days later I still recall our meeting and our conversation to the point in which I'm blogging about it.
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